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The Shadow of a Curse, 

OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 


CHAPTER I. 

THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 

While passing through the old mother state 
Virginia, no true lover of the ideal southern 
life and its unequaled beautiful surroundings, 
would fail to linger with loving heart and 
unabated interest at the threshold of one of 
these ancestral homes situated in the Shen- 
andoah Valley surrounded by great shade trees 
spreading their branches far and wide, as 
though still trying to shelter the children and 
descendants of many generations of the aristo- 
cratic family, reared in the old decaying home, be- 
neath their shadows. As the the traveler drives 
through the long shady lane, bordered with mas- 
sive oaks, and hears the murmuring of the 
brook as it flows on and on through the 
fields of emerald green and the great sugar 
camp, a desire to look into the restless rippling 
little stream seizes him and leaving tht carriage 
he mounts the plank fence and views the beau- 
tiful landscape before him. The sun is fast sink- 
ing in the western horizon, twilight is rapidly 
approaching; a feeling of awe and reverence 
5 


6 


THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


comes over him as he stands on the bank of the 
brook and looks into the clear transparent wa- 
ters, beholding the ivory white, ruby red, tur- 
quoise blue, topaz brown and other varied colored 
pebbles gleaming like precious jewels from its 
crystal depths. The soft music of the beautiful 
stream seems to be chanting some sad sweet 
melody, or whispering some sacred secret, con- 
nected with the loved ancestors and descendants, 
who have for many generations been reared in 
this stately peaceful old home of the South. 

It was February 22nd, 1833, a dreary winter 
morning when the storm king had robbed the sun 
of its heat, frozen and checked the voice of the 
musical brook and divested the fields and trees 
of their brilliant array of green, golden brown 
and scarlet, robing them instead in gowns of 
snow. While the wind moaned piteously 
through the tall gaunt trees, a tiny little infant 
girl made her earthly debut in the midst of the 
family circle in this happy old Virginia home. 
Strange that nature should give to so dainty a lit- 
tle flower of humanity such a dreary, cold, chilly 
birthday! But why not? Was not the 22nd. 
of February also the birthday of George Wash- 
ington, her ancestral parent, the father of our 
country and the pride of America. 

Little Lillian Constance Waud, for this was 
the name of the beautiful child born this bleak 
winter day, was from her early infancy a re- 
markable child. Her large clear gray eyes 
seemed to see, and her mind to grasp and under- 
stand the substance of conversation far too in- 
tricate for one of her tender age ; and when but 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 7 

five years old she could sing with the graceful 
ease of a canary and converse on subjects diffi- 
cult for many of more mature years, to the as- 
tonishment of all who knew her. Reared in a 
Christian home, trained by loving, noble God- 
fearing parents, surrounded by fond brothers 
and sisters, faithful servants, wealth, luxury and 
happiness, this tender little blossom of the 
human race developed a character as pure as the 
lily, and principles as deeply rooted as the stately 
trees sheltering her golden curls from the rays 
of the sun, as she flitted from place to place, 
singing to the birds, chattering with the squir- 
rels, and silver streamlet, seeing God in his 
beauty in everything and loving everything with 
a child’s pure devotion and simplicity. 

Only those blessed with Christian parents and 
the hallowed influences and sacred training of 
such a home can fully appreciate its value and in 
the hour of greatest temptation, sorrow, pain, 
and unspeakable anguish turn to a heavenly 
father for peace, comfort and consolation. Little 
Lillian’s earliest recollections were of kneeling at 
her beautiful mother’s knee repeating her “ Now 
I Lay Me ” or sitting each morning and even- 
ing, reverently listening as her father read a 
chapter from the stained leaves of the old family 
Bible, sang a hymn, and kneeling, earnestly 
asked God’s care, daily guidance and blessings 
on his home and family, after which all united 
in repeating the Lord’s Prayer. This home 
was indeed a “ House of Prayer.” Cassil 
Waud was a man of fine intellect, noble, fearless, 
true; ever ready to serve God, country, home 


8 


THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


and family. Although a man of wealth, and 
excellent business qualities, he considered the 
moral and spiritual training of greater impor- 
tance, than the financial and social standing, and 
his children were from their earliest youth taught 
that without the noble principles underlying a 
well-established character, such as truth, loyalty, 
honor and virtue, life must be a failure. Money, 
social standing, noble blood or handsome fea- 
tures could never alone make a great man or 
woman, such as would be honored and respected 
by God and country. He and his pure, gentle 
wife sought to control by love and gentleness, 
rather than force and harshness. Their children 
loved and feared God, honored, trusted and 
obeyed their parents; were kind and respectful 
to the servants ; and, although a family of nine — 
four boys and five girls — quarrels and turmoils 
were not permitted, strife and contention seldom 
existed. For love, the family watchword, ruled 
and reigned supreme in hearts and home. 

Lillian Constance was the third child born in 
this happy home, and developed into a beauti- 
ful girl, the very soul of gentleness and purity. 
At the age of twelve she, with her sister Edith, 
was placed in a female seminary where they re- 
mained four years. She finished with highest 
honors awarded, and at the age of sixteen was as 
cultured as most girls of twenty. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 9 


CHAPTER II. 

THE BRICK MANSION ON THE HILLSIDE. 

From the little village of Hegmeyherville, the 
dignified old brick mansion of Godfried Heg- 
meyher looked cool and inviting, placed on an 
elevation on the hillside with a wealth of cen- 
tury old trees, relieving the severity of its out- 
lines. A spirit of prosperity, thrift and activity 
seemed to prevail in the very atmosphere sur- 
rounding this beautiful majestic old residence. 
Great fields and forests stretched far over the val- 
leys and hills. Many hundreds of cattle, horses 
and sheep were seen grazing in green pastures. 
Immense fields of wheat, corn, barley and every 
imaginable product gleamed in the distance. 
Dusky-colored slaves could be seen actively en- 
gaged in various kinds of labor, or hastening 
along the road as though bent on some urgent or 
important business. 

Godfried Hegmeyher was a German of the old 
nobility of Berlin, the most prosperous man in the 
western part of Virginia and endowed with great 
wealth. His vast estate extended many miles 
in every direction. One of the greatest slave 
owners of the south, he was handsome, affable, 
clever, discerning, determined — a man of iron 
will and almost unequaled business qualities. A 
genial and agreeable host, he was both the pride 
and envy of the surrounding country. Every- 
thing he undertook was sure to be accomplished. 
Obstacles and difficulties, unsurmountable by 


IO THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


others, seemed to almost melt into insignificance 
when met by his shrewd and indomitable will. 
His neighbors feared him, yet were proud to be 
numbered among his friends. In the home, the 
same unquestioned authority prevailed and was 
instantly obeyed. He ruled the servants, the 
family and in fact the entire household as with a 
rod of iron. His commands were positive and 
unchangeable, and no one dare interrogate. 
Silent submission and obedience was the inevi- 
table rule. 

Godfried Hegmeyher loved his family, 
but he never told them so. He thought it weak 
and effeminate to express his personal senti- 
ments. He believed that lavished love and af- 
fection would destroy the government and con- 
trol of his family, and develop lazy, worthless, 
unruly, disobedient children, lacking personality, 
dignity, pride and proper development. He was 
honest in all financial obligations and never 
wronged any man of one penny. But his honor 
and ambition formed the foundation of his relig- 
ion. He never attended church, yet if one had 
asked him if he believed in God, he would have 
answered in the affirmative. His wife was a timid 
gentle woman, a church member, and a good 
Christian, but it was “ a house divided against it- 
self ” and she, in her weak way, was not strong 
enough to stand alone. She attended church ser- 
vices when convenient, but the management of 
the household consumed most of her time and 
energy, and with little to encourage and many bit- 
ter oppositions and discouragements to encounter, 
she found it very difficult to “ let her light shine,” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH n 


so kept her candle concealed under a bushel. 
Elethia Hegmeyher was the mother of ten chil- 
dren — eight sons and two daughters. They 
were not required to attend church or Sabbath 
school, for their father argued that compulsion 
along religious lines weakened their self-will 
and personality, and he believed in allowing 
them to decide for themselves on all such sub- 
jects. 

No cellar in Virginia contained a greater va- 
riety or better quality of wine, than the one at the 
Hegmeyher manson, — it was served at the fam- 
ily table to each child, for their father believed 
that, in this way, his children would never become 
drunkards. He taught them that to use and not 
abuse liquor was the proper thing to do. He 
claimed if they were allowed the correct use of 
wine while children, they would never crave it or 
over indulge when grown. True, if one of his 
sons or servants seemed slightly intoxicated, 
their punishment was most unmerciful and se- 
vere. For Godfried Hegmeyher like many other 
parents had learned but one passage of scripture 
“ Spare the rod and spoil the child ” — and this 
he quoted and executed repeatedly to the sorrow 
and disgust of his children, until they learned to 
hate and judge the Bible and the quotation alike. 
How could they love the Bible? They knew 
nothing of its teachings of God’s love and mercy. 
They never read a chapter, nor did they hear 
one read. They knew nothing of prayer or the 
Savior’s blessing, care and protection. They 
believed, as did their father, that some place there 
was possibly a supreme power, but farther than 


12 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


this they did not concern themselves, for they 
were rapidly developing into bright, stalwart 
men like their father and would soon be engulfed 
in the absorbing vortex of a business career. 


CHAPTER III. 

STARTING FOR THE GOLDEN WEST. 

In the year of 1846 exaggerated reports and 
glowing accounts of the Golden West, its unlim- 
ited wealth and marvelous resources, reached the 
Eastern and Southern states. The newspapers 
portrayed the future of this new country with 
such attractive inducements that many of the 
old established families decided to leave their 
peaceful, beautiful homes and cast their lots with 
the fortune seekers of the Wild West. 

Cassil Waud, after some missgivings, much 
thought and many interesting discussions, sold his 
ancestral estate and with his wife and children 
started for the new country, the Canon of Amer- 
ica, the land flowing with milk and honey. Sad 
indeed was the home leaving, for, a few days be- 
fore they started, the death angel entered the 
home and took from their midst little Mary, the 
golden-haired baby, and the pet of the family. 
She was gently laid to rest in the old family 
cemetery on the farm, and with many tears and 
sad unhappy hearts, they started on their journey 
westward. 

The South at that time had no steam engines 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 13 


or electric cars to speedily carry them in four or 
five days across the continent from the shores of 
the Atlantic to the Pacific; no observation cars, 
Pullman sleepers and well equipped dining cars, 
furnishing almost the pleasure and luxury exist- 
ing at the home table and fireside. They traveled 
instead in large wagons, covered with canvas to 
protect them from scorching sun, and chilly dew, 
or drenching rain. Day after day they slowly 
wended their way along the narrow, poorly-kept 
roads until the approach of twilight, when they 
selected a suitable place to camp, and grazed the 
horses, and prepared for their night’s rest. But 
the sadness of the home departure, or the uncom- 
fortable inconvenience of the trip did not deter 
Cassil Waud from his duty to his family and 
his God. 

After supper by the camp-fire, with the star- 
light canopy of heaven for a covering, he read a 
chapter and quietly thanked the great Creator 
and Controller of the Universe for his protection 
for the past day, invoking his blessings and 
watchfulness during the night. Then all would 
retire resting as peacefully as if in the old be- 
loved home in the vale of Shenandoah. 

Saturday night, preparations were made for 
the Sabbath, for this was God’s day of rest, and 
their journey was discontinued until Monday 
morning. In this way, they pressed forward over 
the Alleghany mountains, descending into what 
is now called West Virginia. 


14 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


CHAPTER IV. 

AFFLICTION IN NEW COUNTRY. 

When Cassil Waud and family reached the 
beautiful Ohio River they were compelled to 
cease their travel and seek a temporary abode, for 
Lillian had in some way contracted measles, and 
with other complications was seriously ill. Mrs. 
Waud was the only one of the family who had 
previously had this disease and in a very few days 
the father and eight children were confined to 
their beds. Their recent exposure, together with 
the present inconveniences (for they were not 
yet very comfortably established) caused this 
otherwise simple malady to take on a more 
malignant form. Stuart, the youngest son, soon 
succumbed; his little earthly light was extin- 
guished, and his soul returned to his heavenly 
parent who had loaned him but a few short 
years to gladden the hearts of those who had 
learned to love him on earth. He was placed 
in a lonely grave in this new country near the 
western border of Virginia. Alas, it seemed that 
sickness had changed this ideal home to one 
of sorrow and misfortune! Howard a bright, 
promising youth of twenty-one years, the eldest 
of the family, his father’s pride and the idol of 
his mother’s heart, went into rapid decline and 
in a few months called the family around his 
bed, assured them of his hope beyond the grave, 
his preparation for a joyous transport to the life 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 15 

eternal, bade them a fond “ good-bye/’ and passed 
also into the spirit world from which none re- 
turn. His farewell words were, “ My Sun is 
setting without a cloud, to rise in gloom no more.” 
He left for a girl sweetheart, near his childhood 
home, a note with these short lines penned in a 
trembling hand “ ‘ Man proposes, but God dis- 
poses.’ I will meet you at the Throne of God. 
Farewell, Howard V. Waud.” 

Cassil Waud was never a strong man again. 
His vitality was at a very low ebb — he was a 
physical wreck. The glare of the Golden West 
no longer allured him. His ambition for worldly 
gain was a thing of the past ; thus, he decided to 
purchase a home and remain near the graves of 
his two beloved sons. 

One evening, as he sat in the twilight, watch- 
ing the setting sun, as it cast its delicate rays like 
a golden sceptre on the silvery water of the placid 
Ohio, pretty Lillian came up to him and gently 
smoothing his hair said, “ Father, I wish to have 
a conversation with you.” He looked at her as 
she seated herself before him and thought, “ How 
she has changed — only a child in years, yet a 
queenly beautiful woman ! ” She clasped his 
hands between both of hers and looked into his 
deep, blue eyes, saying, “ Father you are no longer 
young. Howard, whom you have long looked 
upon as a stay for declining years has been called 
from our midst. Edith is so timid, sweet, 
innocent, domestic and homeloving that she will 
be a boon of comfort to mother in the manage- 
ment of the home. Ruth, Malcina, Cameron and 
Byron are young and must be educated, and I am 


16 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


the only one of the family left unincumbered. I 
feel that I want to know more of the world and 
the people who inhabit it. I want to understand 
something about business. I should like to help 
educate and develop the minds of the youth of 
this country, and with your consent I should so 
much like to secure a school and teach.” Cassil 
Waud was astounded. Did his ears hear cor- 
rectly? Could it be possible that this was his 
pure Lily whom he had so carefully guarded and 
shielded from every temptation? It was not 
customary for southern ladies to have employ- 
ment outside of the home. True, teaching was a 
repectable profession, but it had never occurred 
to him that one of his daughters would ever ex- 
press a desire to do anything of the kind. After 
a few moments of silence and deep thought, he 
smiled and replied, “ Daughter, the people will 
want some one beside children in the school 
room. You are but a child yourself. Not yet 
seventeen years old ; do you think you could con- 
trol a school of rough, uncultured boys and 
girls? ” 

“ Yes, father I am quite sure — in fact, I know 
I can. I have the education, that you will admit, 
and you have no idea how demure, positive, 
dignified and prim I can be. Just let me try, and 
I shall prove to you what a successful school- 
marm I can make.” 

“ My child, what has caused you to think of 
such a thing? Who suggested it? 

“ And where would you expect to install your- 
self as Lady Superior? You are surely not in 
earnest.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 17 

“ Father, I am not jesting, I was never more 
sincere in my life. Cousin Margaret Thayer is 
going to teach, and has the choice of two schools. 
She is confident I could control one, and make a 
success as a teacher, and will gladly introduce and 
recommend me. God will help me. I shall not 
fail. May I undertake it? Please, father, have 
I your permission ? ” 

How could he refuse her earnest pleadings? 
She was so sincere, so enthusiastic, so ambitious. 
Possibly, after all, it might be her vocation. If 
so, had he any right to check her in her chosen 
path of life? No, he believed not. He would 
allow her to make the trial; and, too, she would 
probably grow weary of her task soon, and be 
contented to remain at home. So he replied, 

“ Yes, daughter, you have my consent and ap- 
proval. Where is this school? And when will 
you begin ? ” 

“ Thank you, father ; I knew you would say 
that. It is twelve miles from here, at a little 
village called Hegmeyherville and I should like 
to go about ten days hence.” 

“ Very well, daughter, I shall arrange it for 
you. Come, it is growing late, and the dew is 
falling; we had better go in the house.” Thus, 
they walked, arm in arm, from the garden to- 
gether. 


18 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


CHAPTER V. 

THE VILLAGE SCHOOL TEACHER. 

" Well, what do you think of her? Don’t you 
think she is too young ? ” 

“ Yes and too pretty. She is awfully dressy 
and stylish. I’m afraid she is proud. Will you 
send your children ? ” 

These are a few of the remarks made by 
the gossiping mothers of Hegmeyherville. They 
had a new topic for discussion. The village 
school teacher had arrived, and called at various 
homes that day. They had no public school sys- 
tem then, as we have now. The schools were 
all conducted by subscription. The parents fi- 
nancially able, paid for their children, and the 
teacher must ask the county for payment on the 
others. It was a new experience in the life of 
Lillian Constance Waud. Some of the women 
were most exasperating, others amusing, while 
some were very polite, cultured and interesting. 
One woman when asked, if she wished to send 
her children to school, replied, 

“ Wall, I don’t know ’bout it. I’d like my 
young ’uns to larn somethin’. They’ve got sense 
’nough, and would larn all right, if the teachers 
would let ’em larn. But most of the gals teachin’ 
now’days won’t let ’em larn. You are awful 
stylish like, and it ’peers to me you might be 
’arter lamin’ ’em some new fangled idees, and 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 19 

forgit all ’bout spellin’ and readin’, and writin’ 
and Tithmetic, and sich stuff.” 

Lillian smiled and assured her that she would 
be very careful to teach them to read, write and 
spell, and above all would be sure to not hinder 
them from learning. She soon subdued the old 
lady’s prejudice and secured the names of five 
little ragged urchins on her subscription paper. 
Her canvass was very successful, and she soon 
had sixty-three pupils, varying in age from six 
to eighteen years* A very pleasant home-like 
boarding house was engaged about one-half mile 
from the school house, and the time was set for 
the opening of the school. 

The day finally arrived. It was with much 
dread, many fears and disturbed thoughts, 
that Lillian wended her way toward the 
village school house. Her self-confidence 
was wavering. Perhaps her father was right, 
after all — She was too young. She was nearly 
two years younger than some of her pupils — and 
such reputations, too, as they had. She had been 
repeatedly warned of the rudeness of the larger 
boys. They seemed to have banded themselves 
together to drive out the teacher. Last year, they 
had actually pried a board from the floor, put the 
teacher under it, and kept her there for hours. 
How could she expect to control such young ruf- 
fians? She wished herself home with loved 
ones. Why had she decided so rashly? And 
now it was too late. Her pride would not allow 
her to return, and tell them of her fear, dread 
and inner loathing of these coarse people. True, 
nothing but love, kindness and affection awaited 


20 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 


her at home — no jeering or harsh words; no 
one would tease or laugh at her, for such things 
were never allowed in this home. But she 
could not face her father, after her egotistic 
boasting. No she must go on and face the worst. 
She had read everything to be found on the sub- 
ject of government or controlling the young, and 
had carefully prepared a list of rules, but when 
brought face to face with this rough, rollicking 
flock she fully realized that they would be use- 
less and inadequate. Poor Lillian was amazed 
and dumfounded, but, after a moment’s hesita- 
tion, smiled and greeted them in a pleasant re- 
spectful manner, and proceeded to her desk 
where she arranged the books and papers pre- 
paratory to opening the school, with the stately 
dignity of a princess and the ease and grace of 
one who had been long employed in the profes- 
sion, while silently a prayer ascended to God for 
guidance. 

This teacher was different from those who had 
previously taught at Hegmeyherville — she was 
so pretty, young, modest and yet she carried her- 
self like a queen, a goddess — elegantly dressed, 
though neat and in good taste. Then, how differ- 
ent the way her school was conducted, after ring- 
ing the bell and registering the pupils’ names. 
They were surprised to see her open a small 
Bible, read the 121st Psalm, and bowing her 
beautiful head, raise a voice “ so soft and sweet 
that it sounded like silvery bells ” to God in earn- 
est supplication in behalf of herself and those 
entrusted to her care and training, asking for pa- 
tience, wisdom, justice and love, and that her in- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 21 


fiuence might be instrumental in developing them 
intellectually, morally and spiritually into wise, 
noble, honored, Christian men and women. She 
then asked them to join her in singing a hymn. 
They were all spell-bound. What did this mean ? 
Was this a church ? Ora Sabbath school — surely 
not just an ordinary school ! The other teach- 
ers did not read the Bible, pray and sing like this 
one. This lady was more like an angel, than a 
sour, cross, old school teacher. She arose and 
talked to them a few minutes of the importance 
of education, her interest in their advancement 
and welfare, her willingness to assist them in 
every way, she told them how she loved each 
of them, and would always be kind and gentle if 
they obeyed her. She appealed to their personal 
pride and honor and finally asked that each 
would determine within his or her own heart to 
join in making this the happiest and most success- 
ful year of the Hegmeyherville school. By this 
simple little speech she won the confidence and 
friendship of most of her pupils. Then followed 
the usual routine of grading and arranging 
classes in public school. 

For one week Hegmeyherville school seemed 
to glide along smoothly. No friction or unpleas- 
antness arose. Each day the teacher seemed to 
gain the respect of her pupils, and all but three 
boys of about fifteen years of age, obeyed and 
loved her. These boys, James Hegmeyher, Oscar 
Wauld, and John Long, had been the ruling 
power of this school for two or three years and 
were not willing to yield their acknowledged 
authority without a struggle. The very idea of 


22 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

letting a mere girl, just because she was pretty 
and talked nice, control them, was absurd. They 
were sure they could frighten her out, the very 
first attempt, and on their way home they decided 
to try her the following day. 

When the bell rang the next morning the three 
boys shuffled in carelessly, making as much noise 
as possible. They whispered to each other and 
sat up erect during the chapel exercise, and when 
the history class was called they exchanged 
glances and indifferently took their places. Miss 
Waud understood the meaning of their conduct 
but made no comment. When their names were 
called for recitation, each refused to respond. 
She repeated them, receiving no reply. The 
others of the class were dismissed and went to 
their seats, while James, Oscar and John were 
commanded to remain where they were until 
ready to recite their lesson. After thirty minutes 
had elapsed she kindly exclaimed, 

“ Now, boys are you prepared for your history 
recitation ? ” 

They remained silent. Miss Waud seated 
herself before them, and lowering her voice to a 
confidential tone said, “ Boys, I am surprised. 
Is it possible that such interesting, manly, promis- 
ing boys will conduct themselves in such a rude, 
unbecoming manner? You are no longer chil- 
dren, but almost grown men, capable of becoming 
men of which the world might well feel proud. 
But if you persist in the course you are now tak- 
ing, you will become a disgrace to your parents 
and a menace to your country. It is not for my 
sake I am pleading with you, nor do I fear you, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 23 

but I shudder to think of your future career. I 
am willing to give you my hand and pledge my- 
self to do everything in my power to assist in 
developing all that is good, wise, noble and true in 
you. Will you try to do your part ? ” 

Oscar and John both extended their hands and 
with tremulous voices replied, 

“ Thank you, Miss Waud, we will do our best 
— and can you ever forgive us ? ” 

She assured them that all would be forgotten, 
and they returned to their seats. After they grew 
to manhood and were prominent citizens, filling 
responsible positions, they always dated the turn- 
ing point of their lives from the day Miss Waud 
taught them that they were capable of making 
great men, if they would direct all their energy 
in the proper channel. But James Hegmeyher 
was not so easily convinced of his error. He de- 
cided on a certain course and would follow it, 
even though he stood alone. Now, that the other 
boys had failed him he was more determined than 
ever. He would run the teacher out himself and 
have the laurels alone. So, he refused to speak 
a word. She earnestly urged and pleaded with 
him but all to no avail. At last she calmly arose 
and said, 

“ Oscar will you please take this knife and go 
get me a rod? Not a small one, look at the size 
of the boy, think of his conduct, and get the rod 
accordingly.” 

In a few minutes the boy returned with a stick 
as long as the door, saying, 

“ Will this suit you, Miss Waud? ” 

She looked at it and replied, “ Yes, thank you 


24 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

Oscar. I think that will do. Now, James are 
you prepared to recite. He replied, “ No, I will 
not.” When Lillian raised the rod James struck 
at her with his book but before he fully realized 
what had occurred, she had taken it from his 
hand and given him a severe whipping. Finally, 
she asked if he would now obey. He wept and 
promised, but that night when school closed he 
gathered all the books belonging to his younger 
brother, his two sisters and himself and as he 
went out the door cried out loudly, 

“ Good-bye, old school house. I will never be 
in you again while this woman remains here.” 

Lillian was greatly discouraged, the life of a 
school teacher was not so pleasant as she had 
anticipated, roses were not always blooming 
along her pathway. She had believed all children 
could be controlled by kindness and love, and she 
had taught but one week, and had already se- 
verely punished a boy. Her father had warned 
her against the element she would have to contend 
with, but how could she understand? Never in 
her life had she come in contact with such un- 
couth creatures. Her brothers were such gallant, 
polite, respectful little fellows, and she had actu- 
ally chastised this boy harder than any of her 
own family had ever been punished. She was 
horrified at herself. How did she steel her will 
enough to execute such punishment? Would her 
parents approve of such a course? But what else 
could she do under the circumstances ? He 
would not obey her, if he were allowed to openly 
defy her rules. Would she not lose the control 
and respect of the entire school? She believed 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 25 

she had done her duty — but had she conquered 
him, after all? True he had promised to obey, 
but the taunting farewell to the school house rang 
in her ears. That night her rest was disturbed by 
disagreeable, unpleasant dreams, and the next 
morning it was with a dull headache and heavy 
heart she entered the school room. The Heg- 
meyer children were not present. She had con- 
ducted the opening service and just called the first 
class when a carriage drove rapidly up and some 
one knocked at the door. When Lillian opened 
it a handsome well-dressed gentleman, with the 
strongest, most determined features she had ever 
seen faced her. He politely removed his hat and 
remarked, “ Miss Waud, I presume? Hegmey- 
her is my name. From my eldest daughter I 
have learned what I believe to be a correct ac- 
count of the trouble you had with my son James 
yesterday, and I decided to accompany the chil- 
dren to-day to school. ,, 

“ Will you walk in Mr. Hegmeyher? ” she re- 
sponded, modestly. 

“ Yes, thank you,” and he stepped back to 
allow the four children to precede him. Then, 
entering, he closed the door and, again turning to 
the teacher, continued, “ Miss Waud, for two 
or three years, my son and two or three other 
boys have ruled and ruined our schools, but to 
speak the truth they had little to ruin, and I have 
really given it scarcely one passing thought, for 
the teachers were not capable, and I did not care 
to correct my boy for such people ; but I have in- 
vestigated and find that you are different. Your 
mode of controlling is good, and I heartily ap- 


26 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


prove of it, and think it time these young rascals 
should be subdued, but it is disgraceful that a 
refined young lady like you should be compelled 
to do it. As for me, I confess I am very much 
ashamed of the conduct of James, and of the way 
I have allowed him to degenerate, and have 
brought him to ask your forgiveness. Come, 
James ! ” The boy advanced, and it was difficult 
to recognize in this respectful, polite boy, who 
extended his hand to the teacher and so earnestly 
pleaded for forgiveness, the same impolite, rude 
boy who had disobeyed and defied her the day be- 
fore. “ Very well, James, return to your seat,” 
the father remarked. And, again addressing the 
teacher, he said, “ Welcome, Miss Waud to our 
community and my home. We are glad to have 
you in our midst. We are not all so bad as we 
possibly appear, I pledge to you the friendship of 
myself and family, and if my children, or any of 
the others cause you farther trouble or unpleas- 
antness, please notify me at once, and I shall ar- 
range it without causing you such violent exercise 
as you were required to resort to yesterday. 
Good-morning, Miss.” 

He lifted his hat and was gone, before Lillian 
could thank him or comprehend all that occurred. 
What a lordly looking gentleman — so command- 
ing, and how he governed his child! The very 
boy that seemed to her only yesterday absolutely 
uncontrollable — the boy so utterly void of man- 
ners and good breeding — was a child of culture 
and refinement in the presence of this strong man, 
his father. What a power he must be in the 
community ! Did he yield this influence for good 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 27 

or evil ? Surely, not always for good or the moral 
condition of the rising generation would have 
been different. 


CHAPTER VI. 

RESCUED FROM THE FLOOD. 

From the day of Godfried Hegmeyher’s visit, 
Lillian found her task comparatively easy. The 
pupils were docile and obedient, rapidly advanc- 
ing in all their studies. Her work was no longer 
a burden, but a pleasure and she learned to not 
only love the children but feel proud of her call- 
ing. She could see each day some unexpected 
change in the pupils, proving that her Christian 
life and daily example was yielding a marvelous 
influence for good. 

One day the wind blew a perfect gale and the 
black clouds rapidly arose, causing such dense 
darkness that the children were compelled to put 
their books aside, and cease their study. Bright 
forked-tongue lightning flashed continuously 
through the sky, the flashes chasing each other 
in rapid succession, followed by loud reports of 
thunder, resounding and shaking the very foun- 
dation of the old school house, which was 
situated on a little island surrounded by a small 
brook. This little stream had been entirely dry 
for weeks, caused by the extreme drought. Lil- 
lian, although inwardly nervous, appeared calm 
and composed. The children were frightened 
and many of them quite hysterical. The rain 


28 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


poured down in torrents. It seemed for a short 
time as though the cloud had bursted and all the 
accumulated waters gathered by the sun’s rays 
for weeks had suddenly emptied in one vast out- 
pouring into the vicinity of Hegmeyherville. 
When it ceased raining the outlook was appall- 
ing. The little rivulet had changed to a great 
rushing river, the waters roaring and tumbling 
like something possessed with an angry evil 
spirit, tearing down and sweeping before it 
fences, bridges and everything that dare impede 
or obstruct its mad onward rush. It was al- 
ready up to the first step of the school house and 
the foot bridge was gone, leaving no possible way 
of escape. The children were frantic with ter- 
ror. What was to be done? Lillian lost all 
thought of self in her great concern for these 
young lives entrusted to her charge. She sought 
to encourage them by telling how Jesus had 
stilled the waves and appeared walking on the 
water to his disciples and had rebuked them for 
their fear and lack of faith, and that the same 
God loved and protected them in this their hour 
of trial, just as he had the disciples while Jesus 
was on earth; and, though the Savior of the 
world had ascended to the Father, he had prom- 
ised to send a comforter who would never leave 
or forsake those who trusted in him. This com- 
forter was the spirit of God, and if they had faith 
in God he would surely send some one to deliver 
them, as he had his followers in ancient days. 
Just then, little Garnet Hegmeyher, who was 
seated near a window clapped her hands and ex- 
claimed. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 29 

“ Oh, here comes Marsh ! He will save us ! ” 

Lillian told them all to remain quietly seated 
and went to the door. She saw a man coming 
rapidly up the road, riding a large black horse. 
She did not know him, but this was no place 
for etiquette or ceremonies. So she called loudly 
for assistance. The man checked his horse for 
one minute, took a careful survey of the situa- 
tion and urged his steed into the foaming water. 
It was deep but Marshall Hegmeyher knew every 
inch of the road and carefully guided his horse 
to the school house door. “ Come, lady, quickly, 
he remarked. “ The water is rapidly rising and 
this place is dangerous. Some heavy timber is 
likely to strike the building at any minute and 
knock it from its foundation ; it is old and will 
not stand much force against it.” 

Lillian gasped, “ Yes, I know, I understand, 
but my pupils are all here — your own brothers 
and sisters.” 

“ Yes,” he replied, “ I shall take you safely 
over first, and then try to rescue the children.” 

“ No, no ; I shall go last. Come, Garnet and 
Margaret your brother is here. Can you take 
two at a time ? ” 

There was no time for argument; he placed 
Margaret behind him, took little Garnet in his lap, 
and landed them safely on the other shore, re- 
turning for others. The boys had caught the 
heroic spirit of their teacher and refused to go 
until all the girls had been rescued. The brave 
young man and his strong animal carried them, 
two at a time, until all were saved. But the 
water had risen so rapidly that the horse had to 


30 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

swim. It was also tired and exhausted from 
battling with the force of the rushing torrent. 
Marshall Hegmeyher realized that this last trip 
would probably mean his death but he could not 
leave that strange young girl there to die alone. 
He must rescue her, too. He plunged his horse 
again into the water and soon reached the school 
house. The water was already in the building 
and Lillian standing in it shoe-top deep. He 
lifted and placed her on the horse behind him, 
telling her to hold very tight, for they would 
probably have trouble. They started and the 
horse plunged, stumbled and almost fell. Mar- 
shall jerked the reins. It gained its footing again 
and soon reached the deep water. His master 
kept talking kindly all the time and encouraging 
him like he were a human being. 

“ Be careful, Costo — steady Costo ! Go on ! 
Go on! Brave old Costo! ” The horse was fail- 
ing and slightly drifting downward, but they 
were nearing the other shore. If he could only 
keep up one minute longer they would soon be 
safe. Marshall felt the girl’s grasp loosen, and 
reaching around he caught her just in time for 
she had fainted and was falling into the water. 
What could he do? 

Surely the end had come for both. No, he 
would not give up, and still talking to Costo, 
holding the reins steadily in his right hand, he 
lifted her to the front of the saddle with the left. 
The horse struck ground and soon reached the 
shore safely. Poor Lillian! The shock had 
been too great for her and she had at last col- 
lapsed. There she lay in the arms of the stranger, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 31 

drenched and unconscious. He had not had 
time to even notice her before, but now as he 
looked at this silent face he thought he had never 
in his life seen anything so charming, so marvel- 
ously beautiful. He was not surprised that the 
children had said the new teacher was like an 
angel. Surely such features as these were not 
earthly. He ran and carried some water in his 
hat to bathe her face. But she did not rally. 
My God! Was she dead? He had just met her, 
but now that he had seen that face once he could 
never forget it. Life would not be worth living 
without her. What could he do? He must and 
would save her, and taking Lillian in his arms he 
again mounted the horse and hastened down the 
road to the office of the old village doctor. 

When Lillian regained consciousness she was 
bewildered. Where was she? What had oc- 
curred? Who was in the room? She extended 
her hand and some one clasped it, and a gentle 
voice exclaimed, “ Do you want anything, my 
child ? ” She opened her eyes and saw her 
mother watching her with anxious, tearful face. 
She tried to move but could not. What did it all 
mean? Mrs. Waud saw the effort and placing 
her hand affectionately on her daughter’s head 
said, “ No, dear, you must not try to move. 
You are not strong enough. You have been very 
ill, but if kept perfectly quiet, will soon be well 
again.” 

“ Where are we mother? ” “ At the home of 
Mrs. Wells, the kind people with whom you 
were boarding.” “ Oh, yes, I remember now ! 
It all comes back to me. I was teaching and that 


32 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

dreadful storm, and the strange young man. 
Was he saved?” “ Yes, child, he was not in- 
jured. But you have talked enough for this 
time. Try to sleep now.” The girl closed her 
eyes but sleep had flown, and she lay there think- 
ing of that awful day, and of the young man. 
How brave noble and gallant he was! She re- 
membered every feature — the clear complexion; 
the rich, penetrating blue eyes; the broad shoul- 
ders — what a fine physique and how composed! 
How different from her other gentleman ac- 
quaintances. And he had risked his own life to 
save the children and her. Yes, she owed her 
present existence to this brave young hero. 

Thus her thoughts wandered. How about the 
school? Who was teaching in her place? How 
long had she been sick? When did her mother 
come? She felt a severe pain in her chest. 
What was the nature of her disease? The door 
opened and some one entered. It must be a 
physician. He approached the bed saying, 
“ How is she now, Mrs. Waud? Has she rallied 
yet?” Her mother responded, “ Yes, doctor, 
about twenty minutes ago and seemed perfectly 
rational.” Lillian looked into the fac^ of the 
old doctor, whom she had met but once before. 

He advanced with a smile, saying, “ How are 
you feeling now, Miss Waud?” “Thank you, 
Doctor, I am not comfortable. My chest is very 
sore. What is the matter with me ? ” He ex- 
plained that she was recovering from a severe 
attack of pneumonia, caused by exposure — had 
been ill two weeks, and her patient mother had 
arrived the next day after the storm and care- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 33 


fully nursed her ever since. The school house 
had been swept away, and she need not worry 
about her school for they would be compelled to 
erect a new building which would require some 
time. It was several weeks ’ere Lillian was 
strong enough to be taken home and she gave up 
the idea of teaching again that year. 


CHAPTER VII. 

SOCIAL LIFE OF THE SOUTH, OR LOVE UNREQUITED. 

The Spring and Summer of 1850 were pleas- 
antly spent in the home of the Wauds. Ruth and 
Malcina were charming girls just budding into 
womanhood, while Edith’s modest style of beauty 
and Lillian’s sparkling brilliance furnished con- 
trast and attraction seldom found in one family. 
It was the most popular home in the Ohio River 
Valley. They were invited to all social functions 
among people of rank and entertained extensively 
in return. Each of the four pretty Waud sisters 
had numerous admirers. One of the number, 
Leonard Nealey, a courtly, educated youth of the 
old Virginia type of aristocracy, made no at- 
tempt to conceal his decided preference for 
Lillian. In fact, it was understood by all who 
knew him that he was desperately in love with 
this attractive, graceful, intelligent little school 
teacher. But she in return did not encourage him 
beyond the ordinary bounds of friendship. She 
was pleasant, genial and affable, dividing her 


34 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


attention equally with her many friends, but care- 
ful to avoid being left alone with Leonard, and 
all his well-laid plans and cunning connivings 
failed to secure a private conversation. Lillian 
liked him for a friend, but she did not care for 
him as a lover. He was so good, kind and true — 
how could she ever tell him ? How dare she pain 
one who would sacrifice his life for her, if neces- 
sary? Then, too, she was so young, did she 
really know whether she loved him or not ? Pos- 
sibly, she would learn to give him deeper regard 
when she grew older. He was surely alL any girl 
could desire as a husband — honest, respectable, 
wealthy, of good blood, handsome and a man of 
fine habits, who never gambled, or touched in- 
toxicating beverages of any kind. Surely, he 
was a model young man — worthy of the heart 
and hand of any girl. One evening she took a 
book and strolled down by the river beach, oc- 
casionally picking up pretty little pebbles and 
skipping them on the smooth, placid, transparent 
waters, while she watched the setting sun, as it 
threw its glittering rays like a sacred halo over 
old historical Blennerhassett Island. Seating her- 
self on a large stone, she sat silently meditating 
on the lives of those who had many years ago 
lived in their beautiful home on this same Island 
— had possibly sat on this same stone, watching 
the sun descend behind the forests of the Ohio 
hills, while the shadow fell on their magnificent 
old mansion ; or probably beautiful Mrs. Blenner- 
hassett, while taking her early morning exercise 
on Robin, her favorite riding horse, had daily 
rode up this same path, checking her horse to 


PR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 35 


view the grandeur and beauty of the scenery 
before her, inhaling the rich breeze from the pure 
waters laden with fragrant perfume from the 
profusion of wild flowers bordering the banks of 
the calm -smooth river. There still stood the 
decaying ruins of the old mansion where Aaron 
Burr had deceived his friends and planned 
treason against his country. Lillian was so in- 
terested, so wrapped in thought that she did not 
hear the approach of footsteps or see some one 
standing near watching the animated expression 
of her angelic face. Leonard Nealey remained 
motionless for some time afraid to stir. He had 
for weeks sought a chance to converse with her 
alone; but, now that the opportunity had unex- 
pectedly presented itself he dreaded trusting him- 
self to speak the words that must either make 
him the happiest man in America, or the most 
wretched creature in the universe. He feared 
the worst, but must know the truth. The sus- 
pense was unendurable. He would speak, and 
approaching her he said, “ Good-evening, Miss 
Lillian. The view from here to-night is a dream 
of beauty, isn’t it? And from your expression a 
few minutes ago one would imagine you were 
dreaming. I too have been in a dream or trance 
for weeks and have sought you to-night to know 
if you are willing to make my dream come true,” 
and, clasping her little white hand he poured 
forth with all the pent-up ardor of youth the 
story of his undying love and devotion, pleading 
with her to become his bride. Lillian was fright- 
ened. How could she grieve him when he loved 
her so dearly ? She had never willfully given any 


36 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

one pain in her life. Nor did she doubt him, for 
he was the very soul of loyalty, truth and honor. 
But could she love him? Not now. She told 
him she could not promise. She was too young 
to even think of marrying any one yet, and ex- 
pected to teach several years. She did not ap- 
prove of early marriage, and hoped to know 
something of the world before she married any 
man. He then asked her to give him another 
chance, and vowed he would wait a life time for 
her if necessary. He would never marry another 
woman. He loved only her. Would she try to 
learn to love him, and promise no other man her 
hand until after her twenty-second birthday. He 
would then come again and if she had in that 
time learned to love another he would release her 
from farther obligation. Poor, gentle-hearted 
Lillian promised unhesitatingly, thinking how 
easy that would be for she was quite sure she 
would not think of marriage before she was 
twenty-two. The very idea was absurd. She 
expected to devote her entire time to her chosen 
vocation. Leonard was satisfied and believed he 
would yet gain the coveted prize. 


CHAPTER VIIL 

THE COUNTRY QUILTING AND APPLE CUTTING. 

A few days after this conversation between 
Leonard and Lillian a letter arrived from Heg- 
meyherville stating that a new school house had 



She told him she could 


not promise. 


t Shadow of a Curse) — -36 



OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 37 

been erected in a more suitable location, and the 
patrons were united in their request, urging her 
to take charge of their flock. She wrote them 
she would come at once and in a few days again 
left her home,' its sacred influences, social life 
and gaiety to fill a place in the active field of edu- 
cation.. The reception given Lillian on her ar- 
rival at Hegmeyherville differed greatly from the 
one received on her first trip there one year ago. 
Parents and children greeted her with a cordial 
welcome; also, in the school room, no trouble 
awaited her. All were obedient, polite and re- 
spectful. Her system of control had been fully 
established. Teacher and pupils thoroughly un- 
derstood each other, dropping into line readily 
without dissension. She was very happy in her 
daily discharge of duty. 

One day, Mrs. Wells informed her that she 
would have a quilting bee the coming Saturday 
afternoon. The ladies would arrive in the after- 
noon, stay for supper and at night the men and 
boys would gather for an apple cutting and party. 
She explained how she had chosen Saturday for 
the occasion so the teacher could be present. 
Lillian knew nothing of such gatherings, and 
would have gladly escaped if possible, but 
realized to be absent under the circumstance 
would be an unpardonable offense to her dear 
old landlady and gross insult to the community 
at large. Yes, she must attend and pretend to 
enjoy it. Great preparations were made for the 
event. A calf and lamb were killed, chickens 
and turkeys roasted ; cakes and pies baked and 
everything customary constituting a country 


38 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

feast. The great day came at last. And by one 
o'clock P. M., the girls began to arrive dressed in 
clean, starched dresses made of various bright 
colors of lawns, ginghams, dimities, linen and 
tarleton. Lillian did not think it wise to dress 
too elaborately. It might attract attention and 
cause remarks. Thus she attired herself in a 
dainty white muslin with an exquisite silk sash of 
white, tinted with old rose, her favorite color. 
A single rosebud of the same shade nestled 'mid 
her dark curls. The simplicity of her costume 
seemed to enhance her beauty and she appeared 
to this country assembly a perfect vision of love- 
liness. The afternoon was spent in quilting and 
small talk. Before dark the boys began to appear 
by two's and three’s. The old-fashioned farm- 
house echoed and resounded with joyous laughter. 
Lillian had never seen such a gathering before. 
How loud, noisy and unconventional, yet ex- 
tremely happy. Some one asked, “ Are the Heg- 
meyher boys coming to-night? " “ Yes, Marshall 
and Hamilton said they would be here. I guess 
no danger of them staying away now," replied 
Frank Gum, a tall, awkward fellow, giving a 
knowing look in the direction of Lillian, which 
she failed to understand. The others laughed and 
sanctioned the remark. It was understood 
throughout the vicinity that Marsh and Ham 
Hegmeyher, as they were commonly called, 
caught every new girl arriving in the village, and 
one of them would be sure to get this one. 

At the mention of the first name, Lillian felt 
a thrill of pleasure. She had long hoped to meet 
him again and thank him for so nobly saving her 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 39 

life and the lives of her pupils. And, too, he was 
so different from other boys, she desired to meet 
him in a social way. Yes, she was sure she would 
like him as a friend. Her revery was suddenly 
disturbed by a knock at the door and Mr. Wells 
ushered the Hegmeyher brothers into the room. 
Their general appearance and demeanor was cer- 
tainly strikingly superior to the other youths of 
the assembly as was their language, style and 
dress. They were of decidedly different types. 
Marshall was tall, broad shouldered, with black 
hair, fair complexion, blue eyes, and a free open 
countenance, handsome as a prince, while Ham- 
ilton was a small man, with dark complexion, 
black curly hair, and brown eyes, and features not 
to be trusted. Lillian did not like him. How 
cold, shrewd, penetrating, evil and designing the 
expression of those features ! His was the face 
of a man who would not stop at anything to ac- 
complish his selfish desires. She bowed to him 
coldly when presented, but to his brother ex- 
tended her hand, and, smiling, said frankly, “ Mr. 
Hegmeyher, I am very glad to meet you again. 
If it were not for your heroic deed at the risk 
of your own life, one year ago, I certainly 
should have perished in the flood. Words can- 
not express my appreciation. Will you accept 
my thanks ? ” Marshall assured her that the 
gratitude should be all on his side. He consid- 
ered it a pleasure and honor to have the privilege 
of serving her in the slightest degree. And, after 
all, what had he done? He considered it no 
more than his duty to any one in danger and 
distress. Lillian glanced at Hamilton. He was 


40 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


watching them with an expression of anger, 
hate, jealousy and revenge. That she remem- 
bered as long as she lived. Why did he do this. 
Surely, she had done nothing to merit such a 
look from a stranger. 

Mrs. Wells invited her guests to the kitchen 
where several bushels of apples with pans, pails 
and knives awaited them. They laughed, talked, 
sang and threw parings and seeds at each other 
for two hours. The host, Mr. Wells, was a jolly, 
corpulent old fellow, always brimful of fun, and 
kept the crowd almost convulsed with laughter 
throughout the entire evening, telling his inex- 
haustible supply of dry jokes. Lillian declared 
he had made a mistake in his vocation — he was 
surely intended for a clown or comedian, instead 
of a farmer. He assured her he was called for a 
preacher, and his brother a farmer. They had 
in some way confused their callings. His brother 
had answered for him, and life had been a failure 
for both. The big old kitchen usually kept so im- 
maculately clean and neat looked like a western 
cyclone had blown the old gentleman’s orchard 
into a conglomeration of pealings and seeds and 
emptied the entire debris into this carefully kept 
room. When the apples were all pealed they pro- 
ceeded to the dining-room, whose long, old-fash- 
ioned tables were laden with the fat of the land. 

Marshall was Lillian’s escort. Hamilton’s 
company for the evening was pretty little Juliette 
Andrews, whom he married many years later — 
and a blessing for her it would have been had 
death called her from earth ’ere she saw his face 
or learned to love him. It was a gay mixed hi- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 41 

larious company surrounding this festal board, 
eating, laughing, talking and drinking. 

Crystal goblets filled with rich sparkling old 
Virginia wine were eagerly quaffed and re- 
filled. Hamilton Hegmeyher lifted his glass, 
which had already been filled too often, and 
exclaimed, “ Here is to the health of the beauti- 
ful school teacher, Miss Lillian Constance Waud. 
May she live long to bless the circle in which she 
moves and dazzle the eyes and delight the hearts 
of all who see and know her.” 

A crimson flush spread over Lillian’s cheeks. 
How dare this vile-faced stranger address her so, 
or speak in such familiar tones ! She looked at 
him and saw he was intoxicated. No one had 
noticed that her glass contained water instead of 
wine. Standing erect she proudly lifted the gob- 
let, holding it at arms’ length and with a look 
which seemed inspired she spoke in a clear dis- 
tinct voice, “ Here is to the pure water, God’s 
beverage drawn by the rays of the glowing sun 
into great clouds and poured down to us at God’s 
command in crystal rain drops to quench the 
thirst of man and beast; to revive and give new 
life to grass, flowers, vegetable and fruit — ver- 
dure to the trees and vast forests; the beverage 
that will not dull the mind, clog the brain, ruin 
the digestion and wreck the soul; the beverage 
that will not destroy homes and make helpless 
widows and orphans ; that promotes wealth, 
success and happiness instead of poverty, hunger, 
distress and misery, and may the day speedily 
dawn when the sleeping wodd shall awake 
from its idle dreams of sinful pleasure, ’ere 


4 2 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


the nightmare of drunken delirium shall have 
engulfed the souls of our loved ones and the 
youth of our glorious country into endless 
misery and destruction! May the shadow of 
the curse be lifted from our own state, Virginia, 
and our beloved America. The dark shadow 
is spreading fast. It is reaching every nation. 
It is settling darker and darker. Many hearts 
are saddened. It hushes e’en the joyous 
laughter of the children at their play. Behold, 
the mourning mothers weep ! Few homes escape 
its snares. Who are the boys to become the 
future drunkards of this country? Boys, be- 
ware! It may be you. Where are the once in- 
nocent girls who will soon become drunkards’ 
wives? Girls, are we doomed to such a future? 
I am not safe. You are not safe. No girl or boy 
can be safe while this evil is allowed to exist. 
Yes, I again say, The shadow of the wine curse 
must be lifted from our nation, the poisonous 
serpent destroyed. And here is to the boy or girl 
with courage to say ‘ no ’ ! ” and drawing her 
glass to her ruby lips she drank the clear water 
from the inexhaustible supply flowing in the 
pebble beds of the beautiful Ohio River. 

Had a bomb exploded it could not have caused 
greater consternation. All glasses were replaced 
on the table and every one seemed afraid to 
speak. They had never heard a temperance toast 
before, nor had they ever met a woman like this 
angelic girl, one who would dare oppose Hamil- 
ton Hegmeyher, or respond in such manner to 
his toast. 

Marshall was first to gain his equilibrium. 



“May the Shadow of the Curse be lifted from our own 
State, Virginia.” 


(Shadow of a Curse) — 42 



OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 43 

He filled his glass with water and said : “ Here is 
to the woman who dares to do right, even though 
she stands alone and I drink this to her health 
and the cold water cause ! ” 

Most of the guests followed his example ex- 
changing wine for water, but Hamilton refilled 
his glass with wine, drank it and casting a look 
of contempt in the direction of Lillian mumbled 
in a half audible tone that he preferred women 
and beverage with some spirit sparkle and vim 
in them to water and saintly fanatics. The re- 
past was concluded, followed by a number of 
games. Some of the coarser type Lillian refused 
to participate in but she made herself agreeable in 
a general way to all, and even Hamilton Heg- 
meyher seemed to have forgotten her temperance 
appeal. At midnight they took their departure, 
pronouncing the party a grand success. 


CHAPTER IX. 

love's dream must wait four years. 

Lillian enjoyed her school work very much 
that year. Her pupils advanced beyond her fond- 
est hopes and expectations both morally and 
mentally. Her entire time was devoted to her 
work. She was seldom seen any place but in the 
school room, at church or at the old Wells farm- 
house. Marshall Hegmeyher usually accom- 
panied her to and from church and seemed very 
attentive. He evidently admired her greatly and 
from all appearances their friendship was mu- 
tual, his attention reciprocated. 


44 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


The school closed with recitations, songs, de- 
bates, spelling bees, and cyphering matches, such 
as are usual in country schools. Fond good-byes 
were exchanged ’mid sobs and tears by the pupils. 
For Miss Waud was their idol; their pattern 
and their living example, and the parting was to 
them very bitter. Nor were the eyes of their 
adored instructress dry for she dearly loved each 
of them and would always be interested in their 
future careers, sympathizing with their failures 
and rejoicing in their successful achievements. 

The next morning Marshall Hegmeyher 
drove up to the Wells residence ready to accom- 
pany Miss Waud to her home. The twelve-mile 
drive was one never to be forgotten by either of 
them. It was an ideal June day, the sun shining 
brightly and the spring birds singing their sweet- 
est songs. The forests were dressed in their 
robes of rich green, wild violets and forget-me- 
nots grew in great profusion in the fields giving 
them the appearance of sky-blue and royal purple 
velvet carpets. The rippling water in the brooks 
seemed to chant some joyous sweet melody in 
harmonious accord with the voices of the birds. 

Marshall told her of his hopes, his ambitions, 
his love, how he thought of her continually day 
and night since the time he first looked on her 
pale sweet face as she lay unconscious in his 
arms, after snatching her from the angry flood, 
of the anguish he had felt when he feared she 
might never rally again from that swoon ; of his 
loneliness after she had returned home, and of 
his yearning to meet her again. He said he 
fully realized his utter unworthiness of such a 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 45 


jewel but was determined to cast aside every- 
thing that might tempt him to do wrong or stand 
between him and the goal of his ambition. He 
had always drunk wine and until the night she 
had delivered the temperance toast at the Wells 
party it had never occurred to his mind how 
much evil it contained, but he would give it up 
forever, and make a noble man of himself if she 
would become his wife. He assured her no one 
had ever loved a woman with such perfect, un- 
selfish devotion as he gave her. Could she only 
love him just a little in return? 

Lillian’s cheeks crimsoned. Her eyelids 
dropped. She tried to speak. Her voice fal- 
tered. Her heart beat fast. She knew, yes, she 
knew at last who she really and truly loved. 
Marshall Hegmeyher was the only man on earth 
she could ever care for. She would never marry 
another. She believed marriage as sacred as 
death, that true woman loved but once, and that 
marriage was sanctioned by God, and solemnized 
in heaven. But what could she do? She was 
bound by her promise to Leonard Nealey. 

Marshall mistook her silence for consent and 
clasping her in his arms imprinted one fervent 
kiss on those quivering lips ’ere she could speak. 
She drew herself from his fond embrace and 
while tears glistened on her long lashes and her 
voice trembled, she said, “ No, Marshall, I cannot 
marry you. Nor can I even give you my promise 
now. I love you and will never love another. 
But I am bound by a promise and can give you 
no answer until I am twenty-two years old.” 
She then explained to him the nature of the 


46 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


promise and to whom it was made for she had 
never deceived any one and would not deceive the 
man she loved. She must tell him the truth. 

Marshall was insanely jealous of Leonard but 
concealed his feeling from Lillian. He told her 
he would go away and not return until she was 
released from the promise. Nor would he write 
to her during the four years of separation. He 
would remember that she had promised to love 
only him, and hope to gain her heart, hand and 
life as his very own some day. He would go 
west, gain wealth, fame and honor and return 
to claim his own beloved, which God had in- 
tended for him. He promised to avoid bad com- 
pany, the wine cup and the gambling room. 
He dared not remain near and see her in company 
with others. It would drive him mad. He must 
and would go at once. Arriving at the gate of 
her quiet, peaceful home, they bid each other a 
fond good-bye, and Marshall slowly drove down 
the long, shady lane. Looking back, as he 
turned into the road, he saw Lillian still standing 
at the gate just where he left her. He saluted 
with his hat, and saw a little lace handkerchief 
flutter in the air in response. 

Sad, indeed, was the heart of poor little Lil- 
lian. She almost wished she might die. Oh, if 
she had only refused that unreasonable promise 
to Leonard she might have been extremely happy 
to-day, but the word of a Waud was as sacred 
as their oath and she would not break the family 
record. 

She must wait until honorably released from 
her obligation. She would, however, always be 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 47 

true to Marshall Hegmeyher, the man she loved. 
And, too, she felt it her duty to endure this pain 
alone. It would be weak and unkind to burden 
her parents and family with her personal sorrow. 
She must appear happy and contented. She 
would tell no one of the anguish raging in her 
heart and soul. God would help her. He alone 
understood all. Lillian composed herself and 
calmly walked into the yard. Her mother was 
first to see her coming, and ran to greet her. 
The entire family was happy and jubilant over 
her return. Cassil Waud noted the pale cheeks 
of his usually rosy-faced daughter, also the 
change in her manner. She seemed altogether 
too thoughtful for her years, and he supposed the 
burden of the school the cause. Thus he sug- 
gested it was too heavy for one so young, and 
hoped she would decide to secure a school near 
her home in the future if she persisted in teach- 
ing. Lillian readily acquiesced to his request, for 
deep in her aching heart she did not wish to 
return to Hegmeyherville, now that her lover 
was no longer there. 

Marshall Hegmeyher soon started for the 
golden west. No one suspected the real cause 
of his hasty decison, but Hamilton, whom he had 
foolishly confided in, inciting a promise to keep 
him posted concerning Lillian, but he was to 
reveal their secret to no one. His father, God- 
fried Hegmeyher, heartily approved of the jour- 
ney and furnished his daring, venturesome son 
with the necessary financial equipments. Sehom 
and Fairfax, his two married brothers also en- 
couraged him, but his patient sacrificing mother's 


48 THE SHADOW OF, A CURSE, 


heart yearned for this, her kindest, truest, best 
boy, and wept bitterly as he left the parental 
roof, the old mansion on the hillside, and rode 
proudly away to be gone many years, possibly 
never to return. 


CHAPTER X. 

IN A CALIFORNIA MINING CAMP. 

The sun had just disappeared from the view 
of one of the California mining camps when a 
well-dressed boy not older than his early twenties 
rode up to the door of the old inn. Pie dis- 
mounted threw the reins of the bridle together 
with a small coin to a ragged stable boy standing 
near and, viewed the quaint old, thick-walled low- 
roofed house built of dobe. This was the first 
dobe building he had ever seen arid he was much 
interested and stood there meditating and com- 
paring it to his own beautiful eastern home, and 
the elegant attractive new residence on the banks 
of the Ohio River, where the dearest, purest, 
most beautiful girl in the world resided. 

What was she doing now? Was she think- 
ing of him, as he wandered in this far off country 
alone.. Perhaps she was offering a prayer to 
God in his behalf. And his mother, was she 
weeping for her prodigal son to-night. Yes, he 
intuitively felt that they were both with him in 
thought this very minute. He would make good 
in this wild country and be all they expected of 
him. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 49 

Rousing himself from his revery, he advanced 
toward the door where more than a dozen rough- 
looking fellows lounged idly and eyed him crit- 
ically. He entered the big room, which served 
as office, sitting-room, parlor, dining-room and 
bar room. The furniture consisted of rough 
board tables, covered with dirty oilcloth, split- 
bottom chairs, benches, and boxes filled with 
saw-dust for cuspidors. A bar extended across 
one entire end of the room, and five or six 
loafers sat dozing, intoxicated and grumbling, 
while others were cursing, gambling and drink- 
ing around the table. A jolly, fat, rednosed 
“ beer bloat ” with a half-inch growth of coarse, 
stubby beard all over his face and neck, stood be- 
hind the bar, and served in the capacity of bar- 
tender, clerk, steward, porter, bell boy and land- 
lord. The young gentleman approached him 
respectfully and asked for supper and lodging. 
The landlord scanned him o’er and o’er, then 
asked what his business might be in this part of 
the country. 

The youth replied that he was an eastern ad- 
venturer and had come, like many other fortune 
seekers, to find wealth in the California gold 
mines and timber lands. His answer was so 
quick, frank and free that the proprietor of the 
wayside inn believed him, and laughingly re- 
plied, that they were not accustomed to seeing 
such dressy-looking chaps, seeking fortunes and 
hard work in mining camps. He looked as 
though he might already have a fairly good 
share of this world’s goods and would not relish 
digging for gold when he could probably get all 


50 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


he wanted from his old dad at home simply for 
the asking. 

The boy assured him that he was made of 
heavier material than he gave him credit for — 
was not afraid of any kind of labor and he was 
greatly mistaken if he thought his father would 
furnish one of his sons with money just when 
they chose to ask for it. True, he had wealth, 
but knew how to keep it, allowing each of his 
sons a certain amount, and they must use that 
to good advantage or do without. 

“ What is your name, boy ? ” the landlord 
asked. 

“ E. Marshall Hegmeyher.” 

“ E. Marshall Hegmeyher? Dutch, eh?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ All right, I like you, Dutch. My name is Bill 
Martin. I am tough all right. Tough as you git 
'em. But I wouldn’t harm a strange kid just 
startin’ out for himself, that’s one thing sure. 
And if you want a friend any time just call on 
me, and you will need one all right I promise you 
before you are here very long.” And, taking a 
bottle from the shelf he said, “ Won’t you have 
one on me? ” 

Marshall drew back. He thought of his 
promise to Lillian and replied, “ No, I thank you. 
I do not drink.” 

“ What, don’t drink ? Ha ! Ha ! you are a sissy 
sure. Boy, you had better skin out of this place 
at once if you are a prohibitionist; they don’t 
thrive well around these parts of the country. 
You must still be tied to your mammy’s apron 
string. Is your old dad a Methodist preacher, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 51 

and has he made you believe a little snake is 
crawling around in each glass of liquor ready to 
grow into a great dragon, ready to eat you and 
everybody else that swallows it. I’ll bet ten dol- 
lars you never tasted as much as sweet cider in 
your life.” The voice of Bill Martin was pitched 
high, attracting the attention of those in the 
room, and they gathered near the bar to hear 
what was going on. 

Marshall was furious. His face flushed with 
anger and shame. At his home no one would 
have dared address him thus. But he felt it 
would never do to resent it here. He must meet 
the taunt and insult as a joke in an agreeable 
manner. So he calmly replied, “ No, Bill, you 
are greatly mistaken. My father is no preacher. 
In fact he is not and has never been even a 
Christian. His cellar is filled with wines of 
all kinds and I have drank liquor all of my life. 
Nor am I afraid of ever becoming a drunkard. I 
have a will of my own, and can drink when I 
choose with no fear of the future. So here is 
to the health of Bill Martin, the proprietor of 
the wayside inn, and may he and all his com- 
rades with myself strike a fortune in the gold- 
studded stones of the California mountains.” 

The man gave a hearty hurrah, and drank in 
return to the health of the boy, who was game 
to be “ one of them,” as they expressed it. Mar- 
shall ate his plain supper and explained that he 
was weary from his long journey and must retire 
early. He was shown to a bed, which was little 
more than a hard, rough bunk, neither clean, tidy 
or comfortable. He was restless all night, his 


52 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

sleep disturbed with unpleasant thoughts and 
dreams. He lay there thinking of home and 
Lillian. His conscience hurt him. He had al- 
ready broken the vow so solemnly made to her 
just before they parted. He could almost see 
those tear-stained eyes as she looked at him that 
last time — almost hear her tremulous voice as 
she whispered “ Marshall, will you give me one 
sacred promise? Will you pledge to never 
drink or gamble and to avoid bad company ? ” 
If she could have seen him to-night in the midst 
of that crowd of drinking, swearing, gambling 
ruffians with a glass in his hand offering a toast 
to the leader of the gang, a saloon keeper what 
would she think? He regretted that he had 
broken the promise but under the circumstances, 
it was certainly the proper course to take. He 
had no intention of keeping up such a life. He 
did not choose or desire company of this grade, 
but would treat them kindly, drink an occasional 
glass with them just enough to keep up appear- 
ances and their good will. He had no fear of 
liquor ever doing him any personal injury. 
Only men of weak moral fiber became intoxi- 
cated. Who had ever heard of a Hegmeyher 
becoming a drunkard? The very idea was ab- 
surd. His father had always taught them this. 
But to please Lillian, he would drink but little, 
and she need never know of that. When he re- 
turned to claim her for his bride he would again 
quit entirely. It would be no great sacrifice, as he 
did not crave it. Thus reasoning, he fell asleep 
and dreamed of seeing her hanging over a brink 
of a great dark gulf or precipice holding to the 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 53 

rough, jagged stones with one lacerated hand, 
while the other was stretched to him in agonizing 
appeal for help. He stood just above her looking 
down at her torture and agony but refused to 
heed her pleading and entreaty, nor touched the 
extended hand. She seemed to retain her grasp 
ages, the blood trickled down her white arm. 
Her wails were pathetic and continuous. At last 
they grew faint, as she said, “ Marshall, oh, my 
beloved Marshall! Must I sink into this dark 
abyss where you have placed me? Will you not 
save me? I trusted all to you, and in return for 
my love, my life, you have brought me to this hor- 
rible end ! ” Raising her eyes to heaven she 
cried out, “Father, forgive him! He knows 
not what he has done ! It is not him, father. It 
is the liquor he drank. Save him ! Marshall, my 
beloved, farewell ! ” Her bleeding hand released 
its grasp on the stone and she sank down, down, 
down, into the black raging sea below while the 
angry waves closed over her angelic face. He 
screamed and awoke to find it had only been a 
dream. It seemed so real. He could not com- 
pose himself for some time and slept no more that 
night. 

He entered into the new enterprise with great 
zeal. Marshall Hegmeyher was not supersti- 
tious. But the dream of Lillian on the first night 
of his arrival here haunted him for many days 
and spurred him on to do right. 

He was soon the most popular man in camp, 
always kind, happy, jolly, full of life and vim. 
He inherited his knack for driving bargains and 
general capacity and shrewdness for making 


54 THE SHADOW OF] A CURSE, 

money, and not only invested in mining stock but 
dealt extensively in timber, and at the end of the 
second year was considered a valuable factor in 
the business career of that part of California. 
No youth of twenty-three years of age was ever 
more sought after or better respected than he. 
Everything he touched or undertook in a financial 
way seemed to yield many fold, and his wealth 
increased rapidly. With the exception of an oc- 
casional glass of wine, his daily habits of life 
were unquestionable. He seldom heard anything 
of Lillian, only an occasional remark from Ham- 
ilton, who invariably wrote that he never saw her, 
and as he knew none of her intimate friends 
and had no way of securing information con- 
cerning her, she had refused to teach at Heg- 
meyherville again and was teaching a school 
near her home. 

This news pleased Marshall for he rightly 
suspected the cause of her refusal. He believed 
she loved him and would not teach the old school 
now that he had gone away. This gave him new 
hope and loftier aspirations. He would double 
his energy and press forward to the goal. Did 
ever a man have such incentive to work as he? 
No, he thought not. Never was such a prize at 
the end of a conquest, and he must, he would 
win, overcome every obstacle, gain wealth, fame, 
honor and be a man worthy of her love. Lillian 
should some time look upon her husband with 
pride. She should never regret her choice. 
Hers should be one continuous life, of happiness, 
bliss and love. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 55 


CHAPTER XI. 

DOUBLE WEDDING AND A BROKEN HEART. 

Lillian Constance Waud seemed more 
womanly and mature after the close of her sec- 
ond term of school. She was dutiful, loving and 
obedient to her parents. In fact she seemed to 
divine their secret wishes or thoughts, and exe- 
cute them "ere they were expressed in words. 
She was pleasant, congenial and happy but never 
so buoyant, joyful and gay as before. Her pa- 
rents at first feared her health was impaired and 
sought medical aid, but the physicians assured 
them there was nothing vitally wrong and as 
she grew no worse the family became accustomed 
to it. 

One day, as Lillian sat on the veranda reading, 
the latch of the gate clicked and she looked up 
from her book to see Hamilton Hegmeyher com- 
ing up the walk with his riding whip in hand. 
She impulsively drew back for in her heart she 
loathed this man. But it occurred to her mind 
that he might possibly bring tidings from the far 
West, and she rose and greeted him respectfully, 
offering him a chair. He assured her it was im- 
possible for him to linger long as his father and 
the negroes had already gone ahead of him up 
the Little Kanawha River, where they expected 
to purchase several hundred cattle and horses. 
He had rode this short distance of two or three 


56 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

miles out of his way to deliver her a short mes- 
sage from his brother. He said Marshall told 
him their secret and he would carefully guard it. 
She need have no fear of telling him anything she 
wished his brother to know. Marsh was now in 
California, liked the climate, seemed very happy, 
and sent his regards to her, hoping she was en- 
joying the best of health, having hosts of admir- 
ers, and a jolly good time. Lillian seemed a little 
nervous, and her cheeks were paler than usual, 
but she smiled and thanked Hamilton for his 
kindness. 

He declared it a pleasure to be her trusted 
confidant, and if she desired would gladly keep 
her informed concerning his favorite brother, and 
bidding her a polite good-bye rode away. She 
watched him vanish from sight, and sat silently 
contemplating his communication. 

Why had Marshall sent her such a message? 
How different from his usual manner of speech! 
He was happy and hoped she was. Ah, he well 
knew she was not happy without him ! He hoped 
she was having a host of admirers and a jolly 
good time! It was kind of him to wish her a 
pleasant life. But she wished he would express 
himself differently. Surely, his love was not 
growing cold. Nonsense, she would not think 
of such a thing. She was not jealous, and Ham- 
ilton — how she had detested and misjudged him. 
He was very kind after all. She would treat him 
differently in the future. He was a brother of 
Marshall’s and she must learn to like him, for 
the sake of her lover. 

She secured the home school, and taught there 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 57 

several years. No word reached her from the 
one she loved, but an occasional indifferent 
message through Hamilton, which always had a 
tendency to dishearten instead of encourage her, 
but she did not doubt him, not for one moment. 
Her faith never wavered. She patiently waited 
for his return ; and spent much time in the com- 
pany of her sister Edith, who was in deep sorrow. 
Her lover from Shenandoah Valley, Francis 
Davenport, had died suddenly only two weeks 
before they were to have wed. He was her first 
and only love. They had been playmates when 
children and had pledged their childish devotion. 
It ripened into an idolatrous love no earthly 
power could sever. Edith never married. She 
lived for her parents and family and at the age 
of fifty-five passed from earth to heaven taking 
to Francis, her childhood sweetheart, the same 
unsullied heart and hand she had promised when 
a little girl in white pinafores. 

The young society set of the Ohio River Valley 
was buzzing with excitement New Year’s day. 
A double wedding would be celebrated. The fol- 
lowing invitations had been received. “ Mr. and 
Mrs. Cassil Waud request your presence at the 
marriage of their daughters, Ruth R. to Richard 
K. Nealey and Malcina L. to Arthur Ruthford, 
in their home at Peaceful View at 3 : 30 P. M., 
January 1st, 1855.” These winsome, dazzling 
little butterfly beauties were really to be married. 
Nealey and Ruthford were lucky chaps. Who 
would have believed that they would have settled 
down and married before brilliant princess 
Lillian, the favorite of all who knew her ? Every 


58 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

one had believed she would marry Leonard, 
Richard’s eldest brother, four years ago but the 
gossip had gradually subsided. However, he was 
to act as best man for his brother and she as 
maid-of-honor for her sister. Possibly the old 
flame would be rekindled. Everybody hoped so 
for it would be, from every standpoint of view, a 
perfectly suitable harmonious marriage. 

The wedding day arrived and the house was 
tastefully decorated with holly, mistletoe, ever- 
green and blooming plants from the conservatory. 
The brides were dressed exactly alike in elegant 
white messaline, trimmed in pearls. Edith in pale 
blue, crepe de chine, and Lillian in delicate pink 
of the same material. The two sisters were the 
only lady attendants. Leonard Nealey and 
Charles Ruthford were best men. The girls 
were perfect visions of loveliness, beauty and 
ideal womanhood. Nature had surely smiled 
favorably upon this family and blessed the pa- 
rents with the fairest daughters of the land. 

Cassil Waud gave his two daughters in mar- 
riage to their youthful but noble lovers, and Rev. 
Dr. Bickley spoke the words that made them man 
and wife. Conspicuous among the guests at the 
wedding was Hamilton Hegmeyher. Lillian had 
requested he should be invited as she wished to 
talk with him about some mutual acquaintances. 
He had become a frequent guest in the home dur- 
ing the past four years. The man had overcome 
her repugnance toward him, and they were quite 
friendly. He always had something to tell her 
about his brother, and she looked forward to his 
visits with some pleasure. Her parents did not 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 59 

altogether like his style but he was a son of one 
of the most prominent business men in the 
country and highly respectable. So they did not 
object to his coming to the home so long as neither 
of the girls cared for him. 

He evidently admired Lillian, but she did not 
know it and showed plainly that he was only 
tolerated as a friend for the sake of others. 
After the wedding was over, refreshments served 
and most of the guests gone, Hamilton ap- 
proached Lillian and asked to have a few min- 
utes for private conversation with her as he had 
an important message to deliver. They disap- 
peared unobserved through a side door into the 
conservatory and seated themselves on a rustic 
seat with ferns, palms and fragrant blossoms. 
Hamilton was unusually gentle in his manner. 
His voice seemed to falter as he said : 

“ My Dear Miss Waud, I hardly know how to 
begin to tell you what has become my painful 
duty to reveal. I would rather die than cause 
you one heartache. I am not handsome and at- 
tractive like my brother, Marshall, the man you 
love, but I am true, and would not deceive or lie 
to any woman, much less one like you, who are 
the very soul of innocence and purity. Believe 
me, I would a thousand times rather endure this 
pain myself than be the instrument chosen to 
inflict it upon you. I feel it my duty to tell you, 
for I think you should know the truth.” 

“ Know what? Of whom are you talking? 
Speak, quickly, is he ill, or dead? I cannot en- 
dure the suspense — tell me ! ” gasped Lillian. 

“ No, Miss Waud, he is neither ill or dead — 


6o THE SHADOW OF A CURSE ; 


better for all concerned, if it were so. He has 
destroyed his entire allowance by drinking and 
gambling. Father has sent double the original 
amount, various times, but he has fallen into 
bad company and it soon went like the rest. 
Yesterday we received the final blow. While in- 
toxicated, one day last week, he was married to 
a low, disreputable woman. Father has dis- 
owned him and forbidden his name mentioned 
in the home again.” 

Lillian turned deathly pale, the color left her 
cheeks ; her breath came in gasps. She sat like a 
marble statue, gazing with a frozen stare into 
vacancy. No tears came to relieve those eyes 
from which a forlorn soul looked into the dark 
abyss of despair and ruin. No cry of agony and 
torture escaped those parted lips. She remained 
for some time motionless, speechless as though 
dumb and blind. At last she arose and, in low 
tones, said, 

“ I must leave you. May God bless and for- 
give him — I do.” 

And extending her hand she said, 

“ Good-night, Hamilton. I am going to my 
room. I must be alone.” 

And, passing into a corridor, disappeared. 
When she had gone he sat there with a broad, 
cruel smile playing on his lips — a look of vic- 
tory and determination on his face. He knew 
how his message had pierced the heart of that 
proud beauty like a two-edged sword. Never 
had he seen agony so deeply portrayed in the 
face of human before. But he had expected 
some outward display of emotion, hysterical 



"Oh, God !” she moaned. "What have I done that 1 should 
suffer thus?” 


< Shadow of a Curse) — 61 






OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 61 


weeping, or frenzied demonstration. No, no, not 
Lillian Constance Waud — anything but that. 
With the same gentle dignity and pride known 
only to such as her in times of adversity, she 
submitted her case to God, asking his forgive- 
ness and blessings on her enemies. How dif- 
ferent from other women. Hamilton clenched 
his fist and swore he would change her. He 
would humble her pride yet, and returning 
to the assembly he respectfully took his de- 
parture. 

Lillian entered her room carefully locking the 
door behind her, and dropping on her knees be- 
side her bed where she had many times before 
sought the counsel of a supreme protector, she 
clasped her delicate hands and poured out the 
burden of her aching, throbbing heart to God, 
the source of all comfort, the one who is ever 
nigh unto those of a broken heart and saveth 
such as be of a contrite spirit. Tears trickled 
down her pale cheeks and fell fast on the snow- 
white counterpane. 

“Oh, God ! ” she moaned, “ What have I done 
that I should suffer thus? Was it wrong that I 
should love him so? Never did woman love 
with purer, holier devotion than I. Oh, how I 
trusted him, believed in him! My love was no 
ordinary impulsive emotion — it was the deep, 
sacred, sanctified love that comes but once in a 
life time. I shall never marry another.. I am as 
truly his, as if we were wed. I shall live hence- 
forth for God and humanity. Oh, heavenly com- 
forter! Come, I beseech thee, to me in . this my 
hour of deepest anguish and sorrow. Give unto 


62 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


me that peace that the world taketh not away — 
the comforter left by Jesus to console his dis- 
ciples. And, father, one boon I crave. I am 
willing to sacrifice all, only save his soul. Check 
him in his downward course to eternal ruin. 
Rescue him from a drunkard’s grave. Grant that 
the erring girl, “ his bride,” may be reclaimed 
and live to bless his home and make him happy. 
Forbid that their souls should be lost. I will 
endure the pain, take up my cross and follow 
Jesus. Help me, father. Strengthen me for 
every struggle and at last call me home to thy 
presence where everything will be made clear 
and fully understood. There all tears shall be 
wiped away.” 

She lifted her eyes to heaven and a calm, sweet 
smile, surely not of this world but a reflection 
from the divine, lit up her countenance as she 
said, 

“ Not my will, father, but thine be done. 
Amen.” 

Rising she approached the dressing table and 
dried her face, re-adjusted the stray locks of her 
hair and went down stairs, where she chatted 
freely with the family and bid them fond good- 
nights. No one suspected that she had less 
than an hour before passed through a trying 
ordeal. A crisis in her life. 

At the breakfast table the next morning Lillian 
appeared in her usual pleasant mood, but her 
father who sat, as his habit was, almost devour- 
ing his children with his fond, parental eyes, de- 
tected a change. Her deep, gray eyes were un- 
usually thoughtful and grave — her lips pressed 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 63 

tightly together and her hand shook perceptibly. 
He thought it due to the strain and excitement of 
the wedding and insisted on her resting. Lil- 
lian laughingly assured him she was all right, the 
suspicions were ungrounded — he need have no 
fear of losing her as easily as the younger girls. 
She had no thought of ever leaving him. She 
would be his dear old bachelor girl, and attend 
to his business during declining years. All 
laughed at the absurdity of a girl so attractive 
and popular never marrying. So successful 
were her efforts to disguise her wounded feel- 
ings that they took it as a mere jest, never sus- 
pecting that in the bosom of this sweet, loyal 
young girl beat a crushed and bleeding heart 
where a burning secret lay hidden from view, 
eating away the vitality, happiness and very life 
of one of the truest, purest souls ever given to 
one of God’s chosen images — for she was indeed 
a true likeness of her creator. She endeavored 
to live as Christ would have her live if he were 
here on earth to advise her. She forgave her 
adversaries, and bore her cross alone. 


CHAPTER XII. 

DECEIVED BY A BROTHER. 

At 3 : 30 P. M. January 1st, 1855, if one could 
have looked into a barely-furnished room of the 
unpretentious hotel, “ The Wayside Inn,” ’mid 
the gold fields of California, they would have 


64 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


beheld a youth of scarcely twenty-five years of 
age seated by the window with his arms folded 
across his chest, and a far-off look in those rich 
blue eyes, which seemed to penetrate the mist of 
matter and vacancy and behold pleasant and 
agreeable objects in the far distance. How like 
the face of the innocent boy who arrived at this 
same place one June day nearly four years ago. 
True he was more mature, better developed and 
more manly now. A dark mustache adorned 
his upper lip, but the same eyes, the same dark 
curly hair and frank open countenance could 
never be taken for another. It was E. Marshall 
Hegmeyher. He sat silently meditating on 
home. What were they doing this bright day? 
How he longed to be one of them, as they sur- 
rounded the long, old family table at the New 
Year’s feast. No one could roast turkeys or 
make such plum pudding as old aunt Mandy. He 
imagined he could see her black face now, with 
its broad grin peeping out of the red bandana, 
calling out loudly, “ Lawd Massy Marsh come 
along, honey. Ise done gone made a nice lettle 
puddin’ foh yer. Yer is mammy Mandy’s own 
lettle massy, all de same, if yer is gwine and 
growed up ’most big as yer fodder ! The Missus 
never did hab and never will hab anodder 
chilin’ dat ole brack Mandy lobes like dis lettle 
massy Marsh ! ” And how his own dear mother 
would welcome her prodigal boy home! No, he 
would not say that. He would not call himself 
a prodigal son for he had not wasted his sub- 
stance in riotous living. He had made good, 
had been a gentleman and was now a very rich 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 65 

man. His adventure had been crowned with 
success. He was not ashamed to return home. 
Nor was he ashamed to again seek the hand of 
gentle Lillian, the woman he loved. 

And thank God she would soon be released 
from the promise so rashly made to his rival, 
Leonard Nealey. She would be twenty-two 
years old next month, February 22nd. He had 
heard nothing of her for several months. Ham 
had failed to mention her name, but he had no 
fear. She was so pure and truthful, it was not 
in her nature to deceive any one. How like the 
one on whose birthday she was born, the idolized 
father of America, who could not tell a lie. She 
would prefer death to falsehood. She believed 
a thief could not do as much injury as a prevari- 
cator. God had placed but a few angelic spirits 
on earth — she was one of them. Never was 
beauty like hers. She would soon be his very 
own, his wife. No man ever lived that deserved 
such a woman. He was favored above all others. 
Why had God thus blessed him? But he would 
do all in his power to make her happy. Their 
home would be a little earthly paradise. He was 
greatly elated and decided to start for home at 
once. He would write Hamilton that he was on 
his way, and arrive in Virginia by the last of 
February. He would visit various states while 
enroute for home and be on the lookout for 
any good financial deal that might be presented 
for future investment. 

The next morning while at breakfast, Marsh 
told Bill Martin and the other boys that he had 
decided to make a trip east, and would start in 


66 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


a few days. The rough, brawny fellows became 
very grave. They liked him — he was a gentle- 
man and unlike them, but had made himself, to 
a degree, one of them, and they were loath to see 
him leave. With a deep sigh, Bill Martin said, 
“ Marsh, old boy, you are a good fellow and 
made of the right kind of stuff, and we hate to 
see you go. You hain’t afraid to drink a glass 
when you want it, and you have got sense enough 
to stop in time, and not make a fool of yourself. 
Keep that up and you will be all O. K. Boys, let 
us all drink to the success of our kid pal, and may 
he have a safe journey to his eastern home ! ” 
They all drank and' shouted a loud hurrah for 
Marshall Hegmeyher. Three days later he had 
his business affairs arranged and started home- 
ward. The postmaster was instructed to for- 
ward all mail to Kansas City, Mo., as this would 
possibly be his first stop of any length. He did 
not arrive there until February 5th, tired and ex- 
hausted from his long wearisome journey. After 
spending a night in a comfortable, clean bed he 
arose the next morning greatly refreshed, ate a 
hearty breakfast and walked to the postoffice 
where he found a letter from Hamilton awaiting 
him. He hastily tore it open, believing it would 
surely contain a message from Lillian. As he 
unfolded the epistle a small clipping from the 
Hegmeyherville News dropped to the floor. He 
stooped and picked it up reading these words, 
“ Double Wedding.” Hamilton Hegmeyher 
attended the Waud-Nealey and Waud-Ruthford 
wedding at Peaceful View New Year’s eve. It 
was the most brilliant event of the season. His 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 67 

hand shook. What did it mean. Waud-Nealey 
wedding? Nealey, was it Leonard? Surely not 
Lillian. No, no, impossible. That could not be. 
She had promised him she would never marry 
Leonard Nealey, and loved only him. Why had 
Hamilton sent it to him if it were not her? 
Possibly, the letter would explain. He opened 
it and glanced at the first page. It read thus: 

“ My dear brother : — I assure you it gives me 
much pain to be compelled to write you the 
news that will give you such sorrow, knowing as 
I do how much you love her, and the faith you 
have in her devotion and veracity. I received an 
invitation to attend a double wedding in the 
Waud mansion, January 1st. I would have 
ignored it altogether had I not believed it my 
duty to be present and report fully to you. Well, 
the two sisters were married. Lillian your 
treacherous sweetheart is now the wife of 
Leonard Nealey, your rival. She laughingly told 
me to write you that she had decided it the only 
proper and wise plan for her to marry Leonard as 
he was of her own social rank. Her parents 
favored their union, but bitterly opposed you. 
She hoped however, you would not feel bad over 
it, as she had never really promised to become 
your wife. True, she had once thought she loved 
you but it was all a silly, girlish fancy which had 
long ago passed from memory, and if you would 
follow her advice you would seek a girl suited 
for the wife of a hardy miner, and marry her at 
once, and be as happy as she was on this the day 
of her wedding. I was perfectly furious and 


68 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


flew into a rage — told her my opinion of such 
foppish girls and that I considered you fortunate 
in thus making your escape. I took my departure 
quickly fearing I might let my just anger get 
the best of me and do something I should regret 
in the future. Now, Marsh, I hope you will use 
the same good common sense and judgment you 
have always shown in the past. Let this un- 
worthy woman pass from your memory forever. 
Be a man, aim high and some time marry a 
woman really worthy of such true devotion as 
you are capable of giving.” 

Marsh folded the letter without finishing it 
and slowly walked toward the hotel. Was this 
his reward for four years of labor, anxiety and 
patient waiting? What did he care for wealth, 
now that she would not share it? Yes it was all 
for her, and she had heartlessly cast him aside 
for another. He had believed her incapable of 
wrong. She said she loved only him, and now 
she laughed at that love, calling it a girlish 
fancy. Ah, was that the depth of her heart, her 
soul ? Had Ham told him the truth ? He feared 
not. Ham would prevaricate when a mere boy. 
Perhaps this was false. But he would surely not 
dare tell a malicious, unfounded lie like this. 
Oh, no. He was always cowardly, and would be 
afraid of being caught. Besides he had sent a 
clipping from the paper. It had really been 
published. Yes, she was married to Leonard 
Nealey and was no longer his own darling. His 
future happiness and life had been blighted like 
thousands of other ambitious youths. His curse 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 69 

had been the face of a beautiful woman. He 
dare not go home now. No he would go no 
farther east. E. Marshall Hegmeyher would 
never wed. He would live and die alone. He 
could never trust another woman. But he would 
hoard up wealth, woo and win the hearts of 
women, crush them and toss them aside just as 
he had been treated. He would avenge himself 
for his wrongs by destroying the happiness of 
womankind, and some time bring her, “ Lillian 
Constance Waud,” down from her exalted perch. 
Ha! ha! He would show her something of her 
social rank, yet. Farewell to society and the 
world ! They would possibly never see him 
again — at least not for many years. He would 
eat and drink what he pleased, associate with 
whom he found agreeable and do as he chose. 
He had no one to whom he need render an 
account now but himself and his Creator, and he 
really doubted the existence of such a supreme 
being. He failed to see where he helped him 
any. Yes, he would cast all thought of God aside 
with the rest of his idle dreams. Good-bye, old 
life of happiness — bliss, truth, honor and in- 
nocence ! Come, worldly cravings, avarice, sin — 
all that makes up the hard, cold side of the world ! 
This was the final decision of E. Marshall 
Hegmeyher. 


70 [THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE FIRST SERMON. 

February 22nd, 1855 was one of those freez- 
ing cold days so often experienced in the northern 
and eastern states during the winter months. 
The Ohio River was entirely frozen over. Men 
with their horses and wagons crossed back and 
forth on the thick snow-covered ice. The bare, 
leafless willows moaned and sighed on the banks. 
It was strikingly like the 22nd of February, 1833, 
when a wee girl first beheld the light of day in 
her old Virginia home. Aunt Bundy, the same 
old black mammy, was in the kitchen baking 
a cake. How many candles did she put on it? 
Just twenty-two. Yes, for twenty-two years she 
had baked a cake on the twenty-second of 
February for “ de little missy Lillie — the prettiest 
posy of the whole flock,” as aunt Bundy always 
expressed herself. It was Lillian Constance 
Waud’s birthday cake, Aunt Bundy’s annual 
present for the usual celebration. No one had 
to remind her of the date — she always kept a 
careful record of all births and deaths of the 
family and rejoiced and grieved accordingly. 
Lillian appeared to the family and guests the 
same free-hearted joyful girl, the center of 
attraction. But in the secret cells of her heart 
was an aching void that could never be filled. 
How anxiously she had looked forward to her 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 71 

twenty-second birthday, when she would 
be absolved from her promise to Leonard 
and free to wed the man of her choice. She 
would tell Leonard when he came to-night and 
be at liberty to do as she liked. But, alas! It 
was too late! Another woman had taken her 
place in his heart and home. Yes, Marshall 
Hegmeyher loved another who was now his wife. 
Perhaps it was all for the best. Suppose she had 
married him and he had become a drunkard and 
gambler after marriage. It would have surely 
killed her. No, no, anything but that. God, in 
his wisdom, had seen proper to save her from the 
horrible life of a drunkard’s wife. When 
Leonard called she told him how utterly impos- 
sible it was for her to ever learn to love him. 
She was his friend and should always remain so, 
but loved another whom circumstances prevented 
her marrying. Her’s was a nature that could 
truly love but one, and now she would never 
marry. She and Leonard parted the best of 
friends, not lovers. 

That same evening she received a fifteen-paged 
letter from Hamilton Hegmeyher containing the 
most passionate, unreasonable declarations of 
love, and zealous, ardent appeals for a favor- 
able consideration ever written by man. She 
was angry. What presumption — how perfectly 
absurd ! It was contemptible for him to suggest 
such a thing after all he knew. But possibly 
he was incapable of understanding the sensi- 
tive nature of a lady. She wrote him a polite, 
positive refusal, commanding him to never ad- 
dress her again in such a manner, if he desired 


72 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

them to remain friends. Although not suspect- 
ing the depth of his guilt, she had never liked 
this man, and with no incentive to encourage 
his friendship, she could scarcely endure his 
presence. But in the home she was the same 
dutiful child. No one could possibly discern any 
change in her manner or disposition. 

Six years have passed since we last heard of 
Lillian Constance Waud. Nothing unusual has 
occurred in her life during that period of time. 
She continued to teach until two years ago. Nine 
long years she served in the school room instruct- 
ing the boys and girls of the community. Since 
she was less than seventeen years of age she had 
engaged in this chosen field of labor. All of the 
boys and girls of the community seemed as 
though they belonged to her. Yes, they were as 
dear to her as though they had been her very 
own. How she had watched them, loved them, 
prayed for them, and her influence was not lost. 
It lives to this day among their descendants. 
Two years ago, her father's health had failed and 
she was compelled to resign her position and take 
charge of his business. Cameron, now twenty 
years old, was engaged in a good business of his 
own. Byron, eighteen, was studying for the 
ministry. He and Lockland Jacobs, a classmate, 
preached their trial sermons on the same Sabbath. 
An able old minister, Rev. Shannon, was ap- 
pointed to report their success or failure to the 
conference. Both churches were crowded to 
overflowing for the boys were well known and 
popular. 

Lockland preached an acceptable sermon in his 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 73 

quiet easy manner. When Byron ascended the 
steps at the church door, he met an old man, 
Arthur Barnes, an avowed infidel, who said, 
“ Well, Byron, my boy, what do you think you are 
going to do to-day ? ” 

The boy almost quailed before him. Sud- 
denly, these lines came to his mind, “ Shall I for 
fear of feeble man the spirit’s course in me 
restrain,” no, never. He would be a true witness 
for his Lord. He replied, “ my friend, I expect 
to show sinners like you where they are going if 
they continue in the course they are now fol- 
lowing.” And, proudly ascending to the pulpit, 
he opened the little Bible presented him by his 
mother and read the following text. “ Mark, 
13th Chapter, and 37th verse.- — ‘ And what I say 
unto you I say unto all — watch.’ ” 

This smooth-faced, pink-cheeked, eighteen- 
year-old boy seemed inspired. The audience sat 
spellbound and motionless, drinking in the ser- 
mon. The well-chosen, elegant words poured 
forth with such pathos, earnestness and force of 
appeal as they had seldom heard before. After 
thus holding his audience one hour and fifteen 
minutes he brought his marvelous discourse to 
a close. Many declared they could have listened 
hours longer without growing weary and when 
the old minister made his report to conference he 
said : 

“ Both boys did well and will make a success 
in the ministry. If Lockland Jacobs gets into 
the brush he will creep out and no one will ever 
know he was in, but if Byron Waud gets in it 
matters not how deep he will burn his way 
through.” 


74 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


This was characteristic of the two men, as 
they traveled side by side in the ministry for 
fifty years together. Lillian Constance was no 
longer a pretty, blushing girl, but a marvelously 
beautiful, stately woman of twenty-six years. 
Trouble had not caused this pure Christian girl 
to dwindle into decline and worthlessness. No 
frowns or wrinkles marred her perfect features. 
The same sweet smile played upon her curling 
lips. Sorrow could neither destroy her beauty 
nor her usefulness, for hers was the unchange- 
able beauty of the soul. She had been sinned 
against without cause or resentment, and it had 
only consumed the dross of her nature, and re- 
fined the gold. 

She had never married. The reason she and 
God alone knew. Of her scores of admirers none 
could claim precedence. All were cordially 
greeted on the same ground — true friendship. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

WEEPING ALIKE FOR THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. 

The year 1861 was one never to be forgotten 
in American history. Each child reads of it in 
the public schools to-day with mingled fear and 
enthusiasm, feeling deep in their hearts a cher- 
ished admiration, devotion and pride for either 
the South or the North according to the opinion 
of their respective parents. Great excitement 
prevailed, for war with all its horrors was about 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 75 

to invade our country — Not between America 
and some foreign nation, but dividing members 
of the same household. Brothers would fight 
brothers, fathers slay sons and sons kill fathers. 

Byron Waud, now twenty, was in Charleston, 
South Carolina. He wrote a letter to his parents 
under the date of April 6th, 1861 saying, “ What 
you say is all true. God is love and peace. He 
knows no strife. But America is no longer so. 
Quit crying peace, peace when there is no 
peace. I tell you we’re on the very verge of one 
of the fiercest, most deplorable conflicts the 
world has ever known.” 

Six days later, April 12th, he heard the first 
gun fired from Fort Sumter — saw the first battle 
of the civil war, the beginning of four years of 
bloody strife. April 15th, calls were issued for 
volunteers for both the Union and the Southern 
Confederacy. Thousands enlisted. 

Mothers weeping bid good-bye to their stalwart 
youths, reared in the same loving home together, 
leaving it now possibly to never return again — 
one bravely wearing the uniform of blue, while 
the other proudly donned the gray — each fighting 
for the cause he believed to be right and 
just. 

Cassil Waud had, several years previously, 
given his slaves their freedom. They had re- 
fused to leave him, and remained in his service. 
Not one would go. They loved their master for 
he had always been kind and good to them as 
was true of most of the genuine blue blood of the 
South. True, there were scores of slave buyers 
and speculators, who were cruel and brutal, but 


J 6 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


they were men who could not trace one drop of 
genuine southern noble blood in their veins. 

Cassil Waud had no fear of losing his 
negroes. They had already long been freed. Nor 
did he believe in slavery. He did not altogether 
approve of the secession but was bitterly opposed 
to the invasion of the South by the North. He 
believed they were entirely out of their own do- 
main, and never thought their interference due to 
their love and sympathy for the colored race ; but 
a covetous desire to control, rule and ruin what 
they did not possess. Thus, his love and sym- 
pathy was with the South, but he was equally 
kind and respectful to the soldiers of the North. 
Byron, his baby boy, enlisted as Chaplain with 
the Confederacy. Lillian wept bitterly as she 
bade farewell to her former pupils, as they rode 
away to battle, alternately dressed in blue and 
gray. 

Godfrey Hegmeyher was firm for secession 
and the South. Hamilton donned the blue, while 
Godfried, Jr., Jarrett, Prichard and James, his 
four brothers enlisted with the South. Six years 
had elapsed since they last heard from Marsh. 
January, 1855, Ham had received a letter from 
him stating he was enroute East, and would reach 
home during the month of February. That was 
the last communication ever received and his par- 
ents believed he had met death by foul play. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 77 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE LOVER'S RETURN. 

One day, as Lillian sat reading an account of 
the battle of Bull Run, she saw an elegantly 
dressed stranger approaching the house. He was 
tall, muscular, and wore a long black beard. He 
had dark hair, blue eyes, and looked to be a man 
of thirty or thirty-five years of age. She advance 
to meet him, thinking him possibly the bearer of 
important news from the front. He politely 
lifted his hat, saying, “ How do you do, Mrs. 
Nealey, I am glad to see you again. Hope you 
are well and happy.” These words were spoken 
with slight sarcasm. She recognized him, stag- 
gered and would have fallen had she not caught 
to the post of the veranda. Her face was 
ashen. Finally composing herself she replied 
coldly, “ Good-morning Mr. Hegmeyher ! But 
you mistake my title. I am still, as I have always 
been and shall ever remain, Miss Lillian Con- 
stance Waud. I hope you left your wife, Mrs. 
Hegmeyher, quite well.” 

He clasped her in his arms, exclaiming, “ Lil- 
lian, my pure Lilly, what are you saying. Is what 
you tell me true? Are you not the wife of 
Leonard Nealey?” 

His passionate words filled her soul with loath- 
ing and dread. Oh, how this man had deceived 


78 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


and wronged her. It all came back like an 
avenger. She tore herself from his embrace. 
Proudly she towered. Her usual soft gray eyes 
seemed kindled from the eternal heavens. 
So brilliant was their flash as she turned them 
upon him, saying, “ Marshall Hegmeyher how 
dare you touch me, whom you have so basely 
wronged — me, who loved you more than my own 
life? Have you forgotten the day we parted, 
ten years ago, when I was but an innocent eigh- 
teen-year-old girl? Have you forgotten how 
you wooed and won my heart, my love, my 
very life, and left me to pine and grieve alone? 
I loved you, waited and watched for your 
return, when I should be twenty-two. God alone 
knows how I cherished that hope but you scorned 
that love — trampled it under foot. It was noth- 
ing to you but the heart of a woman. That was 
all. Oh, may you never know or feel one-half 
of the pain I suffered on the eve of my sister’s 
wedding, January ist, six years ago, when your 
brother Hamilton revealed to me the depths of 
your treachery, and told me how you had drank, 
gambled, and at last married some poor unfor- 
tunate creature ! ” 

He did not attempt to check her torrent of 
words for some time, then calmly said, “ Lillian, I 
have been deceived and wronged by my own 
brother. I have never married any woman and 
loved but you. I was on my way home from 
California to claim you as my wife, when, at 
Kansas City, I received a letter from Ham, tell- 
ing me you were married to Leonard Nealey and 
he had attended the wedding. It crushed my 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 79 

hopes, my ambitions. I could not trust myself to 
come home then. Thus I turned back westward 
and have never written one word to the family 
since. When war was declared, I believed it 
my duty to enlist, but longed to see my aged 
mother again, and have one more look at your 
dear face even though you belonged to another. 
So I made this trip. I could not resist the temp- 
tation to come here first. I have not seen mother 
yet. Here is Ham’s letter. My God, the trouble 
he has caused! I shall have my revenge yet.” 

Lillian resting her head on his breast replied, 
“ No, no, Marshall, my love, he is your brother. 
You must not say that. 4 Avenge not thyself. 
Vengeance is mine, and I will repay,’ sayeth the 
Lord.” 

They sat there alone together, for they had 
again met — knew the secret of each other’s hearts, 
but must soon part. He would leave to-morrow 
in his uniform of gray to fight for the cause of 
the beautiful Southland. She must stay at home 
and prayerfully watch and wait for his safe 
return. It was hard to be thus separated again so 
soon. But Lillian took new courage. True, her 
sweetheart would be far from her and in great 
peril but she knew he was true and had not de- 
ceived her after all. Anxiously, she awaited the 
account of each battle, carefully reading the 
names of the dead and dying, both blue and gray. 
For many noble young heroes fell on both sides 
whose hearts had been drawn to her in bonds of 
lasting friendship through the school room. It 
has been truly said that many of the hardest bat- 
tles fought and greatest victories won were by 


8o THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


the loyal women at home, who never saw an army 
or heard a cannon roar. Lillian was one of 
these brave, silent heroines, whose courageous 
deeds were never recorded. Her father’s health 
became so impaired that they were compelled to 
leave their elegant home and move into the coun- 
try where there was less noise and excitement 
from the coming and going of the soldiers. 

They located in the little village of Emerson- 
ville and opened a country store. Mr. Waud had 
contracted tuberculosis and continued to linger 
and suffer year after year. He was unable to at- 
tend to business of any kind, and confined to bed 
most of the time. Patient Mrs. Waud and Edith 
together with aunt Bundy attended to the house- 
hold duties, while Lillian served in the capacity 
of nurse and business manager. She attended 
the store, did the marketing and carefully 
guarded the finances of the home. 

Her task was no ordinary one for those ex- 
citing times, but there was no one else to do it. 
She drove a market wagon to and from the city 
twice a week, frequently meeting bands of sol- 
diers established at various points along the road. 
The rough, coarser ones often stopped her along 
the way, demanding an explanation and search. 
But the officers were always most courteous and 
respectful passing her through the lines. Occa- 
sionally the contents of her wagon would be con- 
fiscated, but she gracefully submitted offering no 
resentment and drove on home with her empty 
vehicle. When soldiers of either side passed 
through the village they were always treated 
kindly by the Wauds. Some were grateful, 


OR, UNDER t THE LILAC BUSH 81 


others rude and unprincipled, frequently en- 
tering the store, taking what they wanted and 
destroying what they did not use. But it was 
war times and gentle little Lillian, the store- 
keeper, was never resentful or impolite. Once a 
message reached her that Marshall Hegmeyher 
had been captured and lay seriously ill, possibly 
dying, in Camp Chase. 

She was almost prostrated with grief. How 
she wished to go to him, but dare not even suggest 
such a thing. Her father was rapidly sinking, 
and she was the only strong one to whom they 
could look to for protection during these days of 
strife. Had one looked at this slight dainty little 
figure weighing less than one hundred and fifteen 
pounds, they would have laughed at the absurdity 
of seeking safety from so feeble a creature. But 
considering the danger with which they were con- 
tinually surrounded, no place was more carefully 
guarded than the home and store of the Wauds. 

Her mother often said that Lillian slept with 
one eye open and sallied forth as brave as a 
lion to meet bands of soldiers and muskets, face 
to face, when they reached beyond the bounds of 
principle, even in war time, and interfered with 
her family and personal affairs. No, she dare not 
leave and go to nurse her lover. Duty at home 
demanded her entire time and attention. She 
could only pray to God to protect and safely re- 
turn him to her. Many were the earnest pe- 
titions that burdened heart sent to the throne of 
grace, while she silently moved from place to 
place, faithfully performing her arduous duties. 
She took bags of gold and silver, placed them 


82 THE SHADOW OF] A CURSE, 


in a tin bucket, fastened them by a wire and, as- 
cending to the garret, removed a board, drove 
large nails and, securely fastening the wire, 
dropped the buckets down between the weather- 
boarding and inner wall, and again nailed the 
board fast. There the money remained during 
the entire war period. The house was searched 
various times, but her hiding-place was never 
located. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A LOVER IN PERIL AND THE HORRORS OF THE CIVIL 
WAR. 

One winter afternoon the rain poured down in 
torrents. The roads were almost impassable and 
the village store at Emersonville nearly vacated, 
when a poor old lady who lived three miles away 
came in drenched, muddy and shivering. She 
was scantily clad in an old calico dress, wrapped 
in a thin shawl, had no umbrella, and wore an old 
ragged pair of her son’s shoes. 

“ Why, Mrs. Paul, how damp you are ! ” ex- 
claimed Lillian, in a distressed tone. “ Do come 
in the house and get warm. Are your feet wet ? 
I am so afraid you will take cold. Why did you 
venture out on such a blustery day ? ” 

“ Oh, I had to have some coffee,” she replied, 
casting a side glance at the one remaining shop- 
per. The man picked up his package and went 
out. The old lady, approaching the counter, has- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 83 


tily spoke in a whisper ! “ Oh, no, Miss Waud, I 
can't go in the house. I must hurry back before 
they find out I came. I just could not let the boys 
I have seen grow up right here under my very 
eyes be killed, and know my own son helped to 
do it. Oh, I wish the war was over ! Charlie will 
do something awful yet. I can’t stand it much 
longer ! ” and the old woman began to weep. 

“ What do you mean Mrs. Paul ? Of whom 
are you speaking? Who is in such danger? ” 

“ Oh, Miss Lillian, I am a Yankee and all my 
folks are. But, I don’t want to see the rebel boys 
I know killed. I overheard Charlie and some 
more of the boys talking about some of the rebels 
being hid around here. They said they would eat 
supper across the creek at Ed. Brown’s and they 
would go over there after dark, and either hang 
or shoot them. Then they would burn Ed. 
Brown’s house for his harboring them. Of 
course, the rebels will fire back, an’ no telling how 
many will be killed ! ” 

“ How do you know this is all true ? ” 

“ Oh, it is too true, Miss Waud ! You need not 
believe me, but I beg you to send some word over 
there at once, or it will be too late ! ” 

“ Who are the boys, Mrs. Paul ? Can you tell 
me that ? ” 

“ Yes, they are Robert Brown, Marshall Heg- 
meyher, his cousin and Lorenzo Harwood.” 

Lillian felt a shudder pass through her, but 
revealed no outward signs of excitement. The 
old lady continued: 

“ They slipped in through the lines to see some 
of their friends and relatives, and now they will 


84 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


be killed by boys they have gone to school with. 
But I must go for they might catch me here, and 
I don’t know what they might do with me. 
Charlie treats me dreadfully some times, but I 
love him just the same for you know he is mine — 
my reckless, wayward son. It is hard to raise a 
boy and know he is an outlaw and a disgrace.” 

Lillian did not answer. She was thinking of a 
plan to notify her lover and his comrades of their 
danger. Taking a heavy woolen shawl, she care- 
fully fastened it around the old lady’s shoulders, 
made her sit down by the stove and remove the 
old shoes and put on a pair of new ones with 
woolen hose. While she was thus changing, Lil- 
lian filled a basket with all kinds of groceries. 
The pitiable old creature took it, thanked her, and 
trudged off in the mud homeward. As soon as 
she was gone Lillian locked the store, entered the 
house and after briefly explaining the conditions 
to her mother and Edith, dressed in a long water- 
proof coat, with a black shawl and veil about her 
head and a pair of her father’s boots. She wore 
these that they might not be able to track her. 
She dare not go until twilight for fear of being 
recognized should any one chance to meet her. 
As soon as it was dark she slipped out the back 
way and down to the creek. There a new ob- 
stacle confronted her. The water was roaring 
like a wild, ferocious beast, anxious to devour its 
prey. It was already around the first step of the 
bridge and by the time she could get back it would 
be impossible for her to cross. If she should 
fail to return they would know all, and avenge 
themselves on her father, mother and sister. She 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 85 

knew what desperate characters Charlie Paul and 
his gang were. They were not enlisted soldiers, 
not being manly enough to face a battle, fair and 
square, and would have been a disgrace to either 
army. 

They only used the war as a cloak to pilfer 
and commit great depredations and had in some 
way succeeded in getting the title of “ home 
guard ” but were in reality home destroyers. If 
Marshall were at Browns he would be sure to 
come over to see her that night, and be caught at 
Mr. Waud’s home. She thought of going up 
through the field on that side of the creek and 
calling over to them, but that would never do — 
some one would be sure to hear her. She must 
and would save him — there was no other way. 
She must cross that bridge and return. He had 
once risked his life in a rushing torrent for her. 
She must now do the same for him ; and, silently 
asking God for help, she took a long stick and 
lifting her garments she waded into the water to 
the steps and was soon over the bridge. 

She found them all at the supper table. The 
boys were really there, and Marshall had expected 
to call on her after supper. She delivered her 
message, spoke a few words to her lover, and 
hurried back. When nearing the bridge on 
her return she saw a lantern moving toward her 
and hastily concealed herself from view in the 
bushes near the road. As the light approached 
her heart seemed to cease beating. It was them — 
she recognized Charlie Paul’s voice. Oh, they 
would surely see her! She imagined they could 
hear her breathing. They were by her side, curs- 


86 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


ing and swearing. Such threats, such blasphemy ! 
She could see them. They were all masked. Ah, 
a mask could hide their faces from the sight of 
the world but could not hide their guilty souls 
from the eternal presence of an avenging God. 
They would surely have to meet him some day, 
face to face. They passed by and did not dis- 
cover her. As soon as they were out of hearing, 
she cautiously crept from her hiding-place and 
hastened on, for she knew when they found no 
one at Brown’s, they would be very angry and 
there was no telling where they would go next. 
They might possibly come to the Waud home. 

The water had risen several inches while she 
was gone and it seemed sure death to attempt to 
cross the bridge. But better die in the surging 
stream than in the clutches of this ruffian band. 
Again grasping the stick in that tiny, white, 
clenched hand, she waded into the angry, rush- 
ing torrent, and reached the steps on that side 
without great difficulty. The old, decaying foot 
bridge shook as she carefully crept over it on her 
hands and knees. There was no railing to hold 
to and the boards were so wet and slippery she 
could not walk, especially with those big boots. 
When she finally reached the other end, her 
courage almost failed. There several feet of 
rushing muddy water was surging between her 
and the shore. What should she do? She could 
not remain here. The bridge might be swept 
away any second. She dared not return. There 
she sat on a rickety old foot bridge, but three feet 
wide, holding tightly to each side, shrouded in 
dense darkness, with not a star to guide or give 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 87 

her light. The heavens were hidden by the 
heavy black clouds. The rain poured down upon 
her while the muddy, foaming stream surged be- 
neath. 

“ God save me ! ” she cried aloud. And the 
passage of Scripture, “ My strength is sufficient 
for thee,” came like a flash to her mind. Imme- 
diately, she felt no fear. She would trust God for 
strength, and make a dash for the shore. He 
would save her. And into the swift flowing 
water she plunged. It seemed it would carry 
her feet from under her. Once she slipped and 
would have fallen had she not luckily caught the 
branch of a large bush. Bravely she fought her 
way and by the aid of her strong stick and the 
branch of the tree finally got through the current 
and pulled herself safely to the shore. She was 
drenched; not one dry stitch of clothing re- 
mained on her body. It was, indeed, no natural 
strength that saved her life but the supernatural 
powers of God, and to Him she gave the praise. 

Hastening home, she quickly removed the wet 
clothing. Donning a rich, warm, loose house 
dress, she carefully dried her hair and dressed it. 
Aunt Bundy built a huge fire in the kitchen and 
Mrs. Waud hung the damp clothing near it 
where they were soon dried, pressed and put 
away. Edith burned paper in the boots and in 
a very short time no one could have possibly dis- 
covered the slightest trace of wet garments or 
signs of any person who had recently come in 
contact with the raging storm outside. Mrs. 
Waud and Edith retired while Lillian took her 
accustomed place by the side of her father’s bed, 
as though nothing unusual had occurred. 


88 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


Suddenly, a loud noise was heard. A regular 
mob was howling and pounding at the front door. 
Lillian raised the window and beheld the mass of 
masked, degraded humanity that had passed her 
on the road less than three hours ago. When 
they saw her they cursed and ordered the door 
opened at once or they would break it down. 
Lillian replied : 

“ Very well, I will open the door, but I wish 
you would kindly discontinue that unnecessary 
noise until I can get down stairs.” 

She closed the window and started to quit the 
room, when her mother and Edith entered, plead- 
ing with her to not leave them. They were sure 
she would be murdered. 

“No, mother, I shall not; God is with me. 
The Lord, my God, He it is that fighteth for me. 
Please, wrap yourselves in warm robes and care- 
fully guard father. I must meet them and sub- 
due their rage.” 

They were angered at her delay and begun to 
again thump the door with their muskets. Lil- 
lian opened the front door with as much ease, 
grace and respect as if she was about to enter- 
tain some distinguished guest. They swore and 
jumped toward the door when it was opened and 
then impulsively drew back for standing in the 
door the bright light shining about her, dressed in 
an elegant house robe of lace and old rose velvet 
was the most divinely beautiful creature they 
had ever beheld. They had frequently seen Miss 
Waud in the store, in the market wagon and in 
business life and knew she was pretty and no 
ordinary woman; but to-night she was a queen. 



"Good evening, gentlemen. You have a bad night to be out 


i Shadow of a Curse) — 89 






























































*. 


















OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 89 

Yes, more than that. A queen was earthly ; this 
one must be heavenly — a spiritual vision. Lillian 
gently said: 

“ Good-evening, gentlemen. You have a bad 
night to be out haven’t you ? What can I do for 
you ? Did you wish to go into the store ? ” 

They were visibly embarrassed and discon- 
cerned for a minute, but their old audacity soon 
returned and Charlie Paul, their leader, replied: 

“ We want you to tell us where them horse 
thieves went.” 

“ Beg your pardon, sir, but I do not compre- 
hend your meaning. Of whom are you speaking? 
I include no thieves of any class among my per- 
sonal acquaintances.” 

“ Oh, now, you don’t need go beatin’ around 
the bush about it! You can’t fool us, or make 
fools out of us, either, if you are the pretty 
daughter of a rich reb.” 

“ I do not wish to deceive you gentlemen ; nor 
is it in my power to make fools of you. How- 
ever, you seem to be taking that part of your 
make-up entirely upon yourself, and some of you 
are certainly succeeding well.” 

“ Now, look here,” said one of them. “ Didn’t 
old Mrs. Paul come down here this afternoon ? ” 

“ She did.” 

“ What was her business? ” 

“ To purchase some of the necessities of life.” 

“ What did she git?” 

“ A shawl, pair of shoes, hose and some 
groceries.” 

“ Did she pay for ’em? ” 


90 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ That is emphatically none of your business. 
She has always bought things here whenever she 
liked, and paid for them, when she could in any 
way earn the money. I have given her things 
before to make her comfortable, and shall do so 
again if I find her suffering and in distress as I 
saw her to-day. If she never pays me it will be 
my own financial loss, and not yours. Is there 
anything else you would like to know of my 
private affairs ? ” 

One of them swore an oath and mounting the 
steps shook his fist at her, exclaiming. 

“ Look here, fine lady, you can’t bluff us. We 
would just as soon take you to jail as any other 
rebel. Old woman Paul came to your store to- 
day and told you that some horse thieves were 
over at Ed. Brown’s for supper. And we was 
goin’ to stretch ’em up to-night. And you went 
over there and told ’em we was cornin’. Now, 
ain’t that straight, gal? You might just as well 
’fess up, ’cause old man Brown did, and we 
strung him up in their place.” 

She felt her blood run cold. Had Mr. Brown 
really told them. No, she was sure he had not. 
He would rather die than betray them. They 
were only trying to frighten her into a confession. 
She raised her head with a haughty air and said, 
“ Men use at least a little judgment and reason. 
You know the condition of this creek during a 
storm, and has there been a time this afternoon 
and night that any woman would dare venture 
over the rickety old foot bridge. 

“ Charlie Paul replied, “ You’re right that is 
straight. And we all know you didn’t cross the 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 91 

bridge; but you went up through the field and 
holloed over to Ed’s folks.” 

“ No, sir, I will make oath that I have never 
put a foot in that field for three weeks.” 

He fiercely caught her by the wrist and, with 
a blood-curdling oath, replied: 

“ Now, Lillie, don’t you lie, for if you do we 
will take you, fine feathers and all, to jail and 
lock you up there. Gee, wouldn’t you make a 
swell jail bird!” 

She tore her arms from his crushing grasp and 
placed herself in the center of the door as she 
flung a look of disgust and contempt upon him 
and his outlaws. Pointing a finger of scorn at 
him, she exclaimed: 

“ Charlie Paul, how dare you address me by 
my first name, or in any familiar terms, much 
less touch me with your vile blood-stained hands. 
Tell me to speak the truth. Did you ever know 
me to tell a falsehood? and did you ever speak 
the truth yourself. Is there one in your gang 
who knows the meaning of the words honor and 
truth. You thought I did not know you. You 
would make me believe you were real soldiers, 
but I recognize each of you. Yes, Charlie, your 
poor old mother was here, half-fed and clad as 
usual, and I tried to make her comfortable — the 
thing you should be doing. My heart aches for 
her, as it does for all of the mothers and wives 
whom I am providing for from this store, and 
you know I do. I venture if you should remove 
those masks, there would not be three in the gang 
who does not run an account in our store, and you 
are aware and so am I that you never expect to 


92 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

pay it. I permit this account to run for the sake 
of the starving women and children. I am not 
afraid of you nor do I fear the jail or death. 
My conscience is clear in the sight of God and 
man. You can murder the body but you cannot 
kill the soul. I am not surprised that you wear 
masks, but remember they will not hide your poor 
sinful souls from a just judge. Men, boys if you 
have one iota of principle left, stop this life of 
drunkenness, crime and debauchery and return to 
your poverty-stricken families. If you want to 
fight for your country enlist and serve honorably, 
but in the name of all that is sacred do not be a 
terror to the country under the disguise of war. 
I respect Union and Southern soldiers equally if 
they possess honor and principle, but if a man 
willfully degrades himself below the level of the 
animal he merits only contempt from pure 
women. You know I have many friends among 
the Union officers as well as the Southern, and 
if I should report your conduct to-night to head- 
quarters it would possibly go hard with you. But 
I shall not. Go, and for the pity I feel for your 
mothers, wives and children I shall let this pass. 
Good-night ! ” And she closed the door, locking 
it behind her. She feared they would batter it 
down and carry her away, possibly to be mur- 
dered but instead they quietly slunk away, and 
did not return that night. Lillian was frightened 
but dared not show it. She must be brave for the 
sake of those dependent upon her. So she gently 
ascended the stairs and found Edith crouched on 
the top step weeping and praying. Mrs. Waud 
was also on her knees by the bed of that in- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 93 

valid father, with her hands clasped in earnest 
supplication for protection. Cassil Waud lay 
with his eyes closed and Lillian thought him 
asleep, but when she approached the bed he ex- 
tended his emaciated hand and whispered softly : 

“ My brave heroine, my purest Lilly of the 
universe, God has saved you — no earthly power 
could have done it. We were all praying for you. 
It was all we could do. And no earnest prayer 
ever ascended to the throne of God and returned 
unrewarded. He has answered us and protected 
our darling child from those ferocious beasts in 
human form.” 

They all bowed their heads while Cassil Waud 
in a trembling, feeble voice gave to God the 
praise for their victory. 

Many were the struggles endured by this beau- 
tiful girl during that awful four years of strife. 
Scores of times she was compelled to face just 
such trying ordeals as previously mentioned but 
she always proved abundantly equal to each oc- 
casion, and came off more than conqueror. Byron 
was never permitted to return to see his sick 
father but once. He was one day captured with 
others of his company, and ordered to surrender 
arms, and surprised all present by replying, 
“ Captain, I hate to give them up.” 

The men laughed at the boy and the cap- 
tain said, curtly, “ I suppose you do but can’t 
help yourself, and we have no time for foolish- 
ness. Pass them up.” 

“ All right, captain, if I have to.” 

“ Yes, you have to. You are no better than the 
others — out with them, quick.” 


94 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ Captain, I want you to promise to use them 
as I have done.” 

“ All right, I will do that, don’t you fear. You 
conceited little fool.” 

Byron removed from his pocket a small Bible, 
a hymn book and a little pearl-handled penknife 
and presented them to the captain slowly, one at 
a time. 

“ Here they are, captain. I possess no other. 
The knife, father gave me and I use it to sharpen 
my pencils. The hymn book was a present from 
my sister, and I sing praises to God from it. 
And this the Holy Bible was a gift from my 
mother, the day I enlisted in the warfare of the 
Lord. And I use it to show sinners how to fight 
the good fight of faith and gain eternal victory 
through the blood of Jesus Christ, our captain 
and example. The captain took them, carefully 
looked through the Bible, and a tear dropped 
from his eye, as he said : 

“ Boy, take them back — I guess you can use 
them better than I, after all. I have a dear old 
mother too, and she gave me one just like that, 
but I forget to use it. Say, boy, would you mind 
using this stump for a pulpit, and telling us boys 
something about the contents of your arms.” 

Byron climbed upon the stump, clad in gray, 
and preached a sermon never to be forgotten by 
this army of soldiers arrayed in blue. Many 
wept, all shook hands with him, and the officers in 
charge said, “ Boy would you like to see your 
parents.” He answered in the affirmative, and 
they sent him through the lines but he was in 
constant danger of injury at the hands of the 
Paul gang, and soon returned to his post of duty. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 95 

The four years of bitter strife finally ended. 
The South surrendered, and one of the bloodiest 
fiercest, most horrifying wars ever recorded in the 
annals of history was over. But never were the 
American people so thoroughly gowned in crape 
as in the year of 1865. Few homes existed where 
they were not weeping for a beloved father, son 
or brother who had given his life for the cause 
he believed just. The Union soldiers and officers 
had many of them returned, and a banquet was 
prepared at the home of Captain R. — in the 
city. Lillian was the only southern person in- 
vited and, although expecting to possibly receive 
a deep stab, decided to attend. She selected her 
costume for the event with unusual care, and 
never before did her dazzling southern beauty 
and grace cause such marked distinction and win 
such attention and admiration, as on this occas- 
ion. Most of the guests were strangers and did 
not know her politics. Many disagreeable re- 
marks were made about the South, followed by 
hearty laughter, but Lillian showed no sign of 
resentment. There was present a young man 
whose father had raised his entire family on Mr. 
Waud’s farm in the Shenandoah Valley. They 
had always been very poor and of inferior pa- 
rentage. This boy had almost grown up in 
Byron’s old garments. He had in some way won 
a stripe or two and was now an under officer 
and felt himself far superior to Abraham Lin- 
coln. His sister was also present, and the two 
tried to monopolize the entire conversation to the 
disgust of all present. Lillian spoke kindly to 
him when presented but they persisted in showing 


96 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

their bad breeding by continually bringing up 
topics to cause her pain. They were all seated 
at the tables discussing the return of the southern 
soldiers when Samantha Ragan gave a sarcastic 
look at Lillian and loudly exclaimed, “ Well, how 
about the rebel chaplains? Do you expect to let 
them come back here again ? ” 

Her brother stretched himself to his full 
height at the other end of the table and replied : 

“ No, indeed, and I hope to have the honor of 
tying a rope around their necks and helping 
to stretch them up to the very first tree we 
come to.” 

Lillian forgot her determination to keep a still 
tongue and rising from the table carefully placed 
her chair under it. Every eye was turned on her 
pale face. Her lips were tightly set and her eyes 
sparkling but, when she spoke, she had perfect 
command of her voice. Turning to the previous 
speaker she responded in a clear distinct tone, 
“ Jack Ragan, my brother will return whenever 
he chooses, and do just as he did before he went 
away. He will soar in society so far above you, 
sir, that you will never know that he has returned 
without you chance to read an account of it in 
the newspaper.” Then to the host she said, “ Cap- 
tain R. — you will kindly excuse me, but I refuse 
to dine with my inferiors when they willfully in- 
sult the name of those who have furnished both 
food and clothing for them the greater part of 
their lives.” She politely bowed and started to 
quit the room when General B. arose and said : 

“ Wait one moment, please, Miss Waud. We 
all owe you an apology. I did not know or even 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 97 

suspect there was a Southern person present, and 
I feel quite sure the same is true of most of the 
guests here to-night. I am heartily ashamed of 
the conversation, as it has been carried on. Had 
I known there was a daughter of the South in 
the company I should have certainly resented the 
impolite and uncalled-for expressions, and any 
one who would dare volunteer such remarks, 
knowing your principals should be severely repri- 
manded and ostracized from society. They 
prove, for a certainty, that they know nothing of 
good breeding and are unfit for the company of 
refined, conscientious people. Ignoiance can be 
their only excuse, and, for shame, I beg your 
pardon for the entire company, asking you to re- 
main for the evening, and assure you no unkind 
expressions will be made by any one again to- 
night about your beautiful Southland, the home of 
many of the noblest, greatest men of America.” 

November 2nd, 1865, Marsh Hegmeyher and 
his brothers returned to the old home on the hill- 
side. War had dealt harshly with their father. 
Godfried Hegmeyher no longer ruled his com- 
munity. Virginia had been divided into two 
states. His home was situated in what is now 
called West Virginia. His slaves were gone. His 
horses, cattle and stock of all kinds had been 
sacrificed to the ravages of war. His wealth was 
greatly diminished and his health gone. The old 
farm of several thousand acres still belonged to 
him but was only a bill of expense, with no ser- 
vants to till the ground ; no stock to graze on the 
pastures and little money left to replenish it. 
The proud, prosperous old German financier had 


98 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 

received his final blow, one he would never over- 
come. He had lived for wealth, position, honor 
and had spared little time to his home and family. 
In a few short months his life’s idol had fallen, 
crushing his ambitions forever. He knew noth- 
ing of God’s love and care and had no solace and 
peace for declining years. It was pitiable to see 
this proud, spirited, strongminded man, whose 
word had always been law, sit with his head 
bowed between his hands and his locks, once like 
the raven, now silvery gray, weeping like a child, 
the day his sons returned from the battle-field. 
The boys were all safe ; not one had been lost in 
the strife. They were glad to see their old home 
again and expected to find their frail little mother 
showing signs of decline. They knew she would 
weep, but the sight of their once strong, stern 
father gave them inexpressible anguish and pain. 
How he must have suffered to change thus. 
They had never seen him shed a tear before. 
What had become of his pride and fine theories ? 
He had never willfully done any person a wrong 
in his life, nor had he shown any one a special 
favor. He owed no man a cent, nor did he loan 
to any one a penny without the best of securities. 
He seldom, if ever, swore an oath, nor did he 
offer a prayer. He never gambled, nor did he op- 
pose those who did. He was never intoxicated 
in his life but he drank wine three times a day, 
or more frequently if he liked, as did also his 
family, guests and servants. He had never been 
considered a detriment to his community, nor 
could one trace any great blessing or favor to 
humanity to his door. His had been a moral 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 99 

life, and on this he had based his hope for eter- 
nity. He had always said he was not the worst 
man in the world, and considered himself better 
than many professed Christians, but it was well 
known he was not the best man in the universe. 
And he made no attempt to compare his life with 
those whose walks showed forth, day by day, the 
true teachings of the Bible. Ah! his was a life 
not good to live by and bad to die by — a poor 
example for children, their father had been their 
ideal of perfect manhood, and they took him as 
their pattern for life, carefully following in his 
footsteps. He could no longer guide them. His 
race was about run. He would soon meet a just 
God, and give an account of his earthly steward- 
ship. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

CHURCH BELL TOLLS FUNERAL KNELL ON WEDDING 
DAY. 

Byron Waud had also returned to his family. 
Cassil Waud, his father, was quite feeble. All 
were rejoiced that peace was to a degree restored, 
although the beautiful Southland had been almost 
entirely destroyed and now lay waste. Where 
wealth had once reigned, poverty now prevailed. 
But the same loyal pride and true blue blood 
remained. Old Shenandoah Valley had been 
burned but the Wauds thanked God for his care 
and preservation of their lives through the strug- 
gle. Preparations were being made for a 


100 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


wedding. A plain but rich bridal trousseau had 
just been completed. E. Marshall Hegmeyher 
and Lillian Constance Waud were to wed, Jan- 
uary 1st, 1866. Fourteen long years she had 
waited and been true to her lover. 

Sometimes she believed fate was against them 
— possibly, it was not God’s will they should 
marry. But, oh, how she loved him ! Now they 
would soon be united and happy and her father 
had been spared to bless their union. For this 
she was exceedingly thankful. The time drew 
near; but, three days before the time set apart 
for the wedding day, Mr. Waud changed for the 
worse and it was again postponed. The family 
watched with aching hearts around the bed of 
their beloved one, knowing the end must soon 
come. Did I say the end ? Ah, no ! Such lives 
as that of Cassil Waud has no end. Their in- 
fluence lives, on and on, through endless eternity. 
They watched the old year out and the new year 
in by his bedside. He talked to them as though 
just starting on a pleasant journey or pleasure 
trip, assured them he had no fear, and said : 

“ I have always asked God to spare me with 
my companion to raise our family and he has 
done so. My youngest child is now preaching the 
gospel and I am awaiting my summons, ready to 
depart in peace.” 

New Year’s day came on Sunday and, just as 
the morning dawned and the golden sun burst 
forth on the snow, making it glisten like dia- 
monds, Cassil Waud looking out the window, 
said in a low voice : 

“ A new day, a new week, a new month, a new 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH ioi 


year and a new world for me. The wages of 
sin is death, and the wages of death the grave. 
But, thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory 
over death and the grave ! ” and, with a peaceful 
smile, not of earth, he passed to his eternal re- 
ward. Thus, instead of joyous wedding bells 
ringing out a happy New Year in the Waud 
home, the bell of the little church tolled a funeral 
knell for one of the purest characters who had 
ever followed the example of his meek and lowly 
master. Cassil Waud was no more in this world 
but face to face with God. Many adoring friends 
and loved ones surrounded his last earthly re- 
mains as he was gently laid to rest by the side 
of Stewart and Howard, his two sons. 

Sad was the return home; the father, husband, 
spiritual adviser, counsellor, guide and earthly 
protector was no longer in their midst. But he 
had left his comforter with them and had taught 
them where to seek and find consolation. They 
cast their burden on the Lord, who never for- 
sakes those who trust his love and mercy. Mar- 
shall Hegmeyher urged Lillian to postpone their 
wedding no longer. She would not be married 
at home now that her father was gone, nor 
would she wear the rich wedding gown. She 
was not superstitious and a few days after her 
father’s funeral, dressed in a soft black mourn- 
ing gown, she drove with her betrothed to the 
home of Rev. Briskison where they were made 
man and wife. When they started that morning 
the sun was shining clear and bright but, just 
as they arrived at the parsonage^ a dark cloud 
arose between them and the blue sky, hiding the 


102 [THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 


sun from view and shadowing the earth. The 
wind blew and the rain and snow beat against 
the dwelling, casting a gloomy aspect around the 
bridal pair. They were married and, shortly 
after the storm had slightly subsided, started 
homeward; but the trip was stormy and dis- 
agreeable. 

Marshall Hegmeyher had built a fine house 
and furnished it throughout and his sister Mar- 
garet and black Nan, a former servant, had 
warm fires burning and a tempting supper pre- 
pared when they returned from the parsonage. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE HAPPY HOME AND FAMILY. 

Thus they took up their abode at once in 
their own beautiful home. And never was hus- 
band and wife more devoted than this couple. 
There was no foolish, gushing display but that 
holy sanctified love approved by God. Lillian’s 
happiness was at last complete. Her life a 
dream of peace, bliss and sunshine. Her one 
aim in life was to please her husband, to make 
his home attractive, and to be all the ideal wife 
should be in the home. With her own little 
hands she prepared things for his comfort. 
When he returned from his place of business in 
the evening his robe and slippers were in the 
chair awaiting him, and his beautiful wife al- 
ways met him at the door with a fond greeting. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 103 

She would warm his slippers and place them on 
his feet as tenderly as if he were an infant. Her 
gentle patient care for her father during his last 
lingering illness had been transferred to this 
idolized, beloved husband. He was her all, her 
very life. How had she ever lived without this 
sacred love and devotion? And he in return 
believed her the queen of womankind, the gem 
of humanity. They seemed to divine each oth- 
er’s thoughts and to supply their desires ’ere they 
were expressed. 

February 28th, 1868, little Miss Virginia 
Waud Hegmeyher, a tiny violet-eyed baby-girl 
came to enhance the happiness of this home, 
and two years later, June 27th, 1870, Erick Cas- 
sil, a bouncing boy was also introduced to com- 
plete the joy and make the noise for the house- 
hold. Lillian was the ideal American mother. 
She carefully studied the disposition of her 
children and governed them accordingly. She 
taught them to confide their smallest secrets to 
her and ruled by love rather than fear. She 
never spoke in a harsh tone, never punished for 
the first offense and carefully explained the 
nature of the slightest wrong so the child would 
understand to what degree they had varied from 
the right. Then folding them in her arms with 
her mother love, which is next to the infinite 
love of God, shining from her eyes, she told 
them if the offense was ever repeated she would 
be compelled to punish them, and this she never 
failed to do. Her children knew if mother said 
a thing she meant it. 

Her promise was as sacred as her oath. Be 


104 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


it punishment, present or journey, mother never 
prevaricated. She considered her course well, 
decided what she believed to be right and exe- 
cuted accordingly. She never spoke in anger, 
never scolded, never slapped or struck little licks 
at random, talked the smallest matter over with 
the child alone as though it was the greatest im- 
portance, carefully weighing the extent and con- 
sequence of the offense. Her children always 
knew why they were punished, and that their 
sweet beautiful mother did it from a sense of 
love, duty and justice and not because she was 
angry or wished to give them pain. Never 
were two children born in a home more opposite 
in disposition and looks than Virginia and 
Eric Hegmeyher. Virginia a dainty frail-look- 
ing little girl with black curly hair, large violet 
eyes, and wee, rosebud lips was never like a 
child. She walked everywhere and spoke 
plainly and distinctly at the age of nine months, 
although so small her little feet were incased in 
doll shoes. She seldom required correction for 
she never disobeyed and was the very soul of obe- 
dience, love, gentleness, simplicity and purity, 
Eric was a genuine boy — a big, rollicking, hand- 
some, hardy, blue-eyed, bald-headed, blond boy, 
with all of a boy’s fun, temper, self-will and 
determination to watch, guide, curb and control. 

At the age of one year, just when he was learn- 
ing to stand alone, the little fellow was stricken 
with disease and lay for months at death’s door. 
Oh, how the patient little mother watched over 
that tiny form ! She was his constant nurse, 
day and night. No one else gave him a dose of 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 105 

medicine. It was she who carried him in those 
loving arms, hour after hour, trying to soothe 
him as only a mother can. It was she who 
snatched what little rest she could get lying on 
the bed by his side. It was her clothing that 
had not been removed for night attire for more 
than nine months. It was her cheeks that grew 
thin and pale, as she watched, worked and 
prayed that God would spare her baby boy. 
Only a mother’s heart can know the agony she 
endured, and her prayers were answered. The 
little son was restored to health and the day he 
was twenty-three months old, little Eric walked 
his first step alone. There was great rejoicing 
in the home on this day for he was his father’s 
pride, his mother’s joy, and little Virginia’s 
darling baby brother. This was one of the hap- 
piest homes on the banks of the Ohio River and 
each member of the family sought to add to its 
pleasure and joy. 

Marshall Hegmeyher inherited his father’s 
instinct and intuition for making money. 
Everything he touched seemed to prosper and 
he was considered one of the shrewdest busi- 
ness men in the community, strictly honorable 
and upright in all business transactions. He 
dealt extensively in timber and cleared many 
thousand dollars on each investment. He 
was highly respected, bidding fair to climb 
higher in social and financial life than his father 
had ever done, and with his beautiful Christian 
wife and well-trained, interesting children, sur- 
rounded by wealth and luxury, he was the 
proudest, happiest most sought-for man in the 
country. 


io6 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


Virginia and Eric advanced rapidly in their 
studies. Virginia was unusually bright; her 
memory remarkable. After carefully reading a 
lesson once she knew it well, and never again 
forgot it. She led all her classes. Eric was full 
of fun, bright and happy, had no bad tendencies 
and at the age of six was a fine, manly well-be- 
haved boy. 

May 3rd, 1876, the children kissed their 
mamma, grandmother and Aunt Edith good-bye 
and started for school — Eric with a whoop and 
hurrah, while Virginia walked away in her usual 
graceful, dignified, womanly manner. When 
they returned at noon, the sun was shining 
brightly, the birds singing their sweetest songs, 
as they walked up the lane. Virginia had 
stopped to gather wild forget-me-nots, beside 
the driveway when Eric exclaimed, 

“ Oh, sister, there comes Dr. Kefering from 
our steps. I wonder if any one is sick. I hope 
not but we must hasten on. Do not run if any 
one should be ill, you might excite them.” 

They entered by a side door and met their 
grandmother Waud who told them mamma was 
ill. Dr. Kefering had been there and they had 
the dearest little baby sister who only weighed 
seven and one-half pounds, and if Eric would 
be very quiet they might go in and see mamma 
and the little dimpled darling. They walked on 
tiptoe to their mother's room and there seated by 
the bed was a nurse, while on her lap lay a 
bundle of soft material, dainty laces, and em- 
broidered white flannel from which a wee tiny 
head, not so large as Virginia’s best doll, peeped 
out. 



The children started for school. 


(Shadow of a Curse) — 106 















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OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 107 

“ Oh, ho ! ” cried Eric, “ what a little tiny thing 
to wear so many clothes. Is she really and truly 
ours to keep, mamma?” 

“ Yes, son, she is our own precious baby.” 

Virginia kissed her mother, gave her the for- 
get-me-nots she had gathered; then kissed the 
baby and stood carefully watching it. The little 
eyes were open wide and seemed to be looking 
at her; finally she said: 

“ Mamma, her eyes are gray just like yours, 
aren’t they? Brother and I have blue eyes like 
papa. Isn’t she dear? I shall love her very 
much.” 

“ What is her name ? ” exclaimed Eric. 

“ She has no name yet, dear — what would you 
and sister like to call her? Come, father, the 
children want you to help name the baby ! ” 

E. Marshall Hegmeyher had just entered the 
room, smiling and happy. 

“ Oh, I want to call her Emerald,” responded 
Eric. “ That is the prettiest name I know.” 

“ How strange ! ” replied the mother. “ The 
Emerald is the baby’s birthstone. What does 
Virginia want to call her? ” 

The girl stood a moment as though lost in 
deep thought then gently replied, “ If I were to 
name her I think I should call her Dolores.” 

All laughed at the contrast in the two names, 
but finally agreed to name her Dolores Emerald. 
The little one seemed disgusted with the pro- 
ceedings and sent forth a resentful yell which 
caused them to discontinue farther conversation 
and retire from the room. 

Little Dolores Emerald knew nothing of a 


io8 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


mother’s care for many months for the next day 
after her introduction to the cold world her lovely 
mother lay unconscious, and to all appearances 
at death’s door. A scorching fever had seized 
her, and other dangerous complications soon 
developed. Several physicians held consultation 
and pronounced the case hopeless. For eleven 
weeks she never saw her baby, and seven months 
lapsed ’ere she was strong enough to lift the 
weight of the infant daughter. The little one 
was cared for by nursey, grandmother, aunties, 
servants, father, sister, brother or any one who 
chose to give her a part of their spare time. The 
old adage, “ What is everybody’s business is no- 
body’s business ” proved quite true in the case of 
baby Dolores. At times the entire household 
seemed at her service, then again, when she 
really needed attention, she would lie for hours 
unattended until she proved the strength of her 
lungs and gave an exhibit of temper to such 
a degree that they were glad to come to her 
rescue, but not always kindly. The hired help 
would sometimes shake the little creature until 
the suffering mother would hear and send some 
one to gently soothe her darling infant. 

One day, Lillian lay alone in the room while 
the nurse and physicians consulted in the corri- 
dor. Her brother, Cameron, had come that 
afternoon, bringing with him a new physician, 
a specialist from the city. She heard him say, 
“ Gentlemen, it is wrong to deceive them. No 
power on earth can possibly save that woman. 
She must die and that soon, and I think they 
should know it.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 109 

Dr. Kefering replied, “Yes, Dr. See, I know 
all you say is quite true, but I cannot tell her. 
Anything but that ! You must do it yourself.” 

“ Very well, I will,” and they again entered 
the room. When they approached the bed, the 
invalid smiled, and in a feeble voice whispered : 

“ Gentlemen, I heard your conversation, and 
know all you mean to tell me, but it neither ex- 
cites nor frightens me. I am not afraid to die. 
I have no fear or dread of death and the grave. 
Should it be God’s will to call me forth, I am 
ready and shall meet a reconciled redeemer. 
But I have much to live for. My children need 
a mother’s love and care. God has given them 
to me, and he will restore my health that I may 
be able to train them for him. I shall not die, I 
know I shall live.” 

The nurse and doctors could not suppress 
the tears. 

Dr. See replied, “ I believe you will ! ” and, 
half to himself, he quoted the words of Jesus, 
“ I have not seen so great a faith, no, not in 
Israel.” Her recovery was slow, but energy, 
strength and vitality finally asserted themselves, 
gaining supremacy over disease, and Lillian Con- 
stance Waud Hegmeyher was again a well 
woman. 

Baby Dolores was the spoiled pet of the house- 
hold and her mother found it necessary to be 
very positive even though she was less than one 
year of age. The fittle one was very determined, 
self-willed and resentful when corrected or in- 
terfered with, but the most amiable, affectionate 
child in the house when not opposed. 


no THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


Her mother soon realized that this one, the 
child of their mature years, was different from 
the others and would require much gentle, loving 
discipline, tender watchfulness, patient care and 
guidance. Lillian was a mother who believed 
the training should start from birth, and re- 
gretted that several months had been lost. No 
one was allowed to tease or irritate her. She 
was controlled by love and persuasion, most of 
the time. Her mother always spoke in a gentle 
but positive tone, and required immediate obe- 
dience. 

Dolores was not pretty, like her brother and 
sister. Nor would she be termed homely, but she 
was a child no one ever forgot after once seeing 
her. There was a peculiar something about this 
little one that no one understood, different from 
other children. When she played she entered into 
the game with a spirit, with her whole soul and 
the same was true of everything she undertook; 
nor would she cease until the task was satisfac- 
torily completed. No obstacle deterred her from 
accomplishing her desires. Thus, the mother’s 
constant aim was to direct her thoughts in the 
proper channel. 

One day when she was but two years old they 
had more company than usual for dinner and 
Dolores was required to wait for the second 
table. Her mother explained to the guests that 
she was spoiled, while she, the mother, was ill, 
and had never been broken to wait. Taking the 
child by the hand she led her to a room and put 
her in bed. After the others had been served, 
Dolores was carefully looked after by her mother. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH m 


When the next meal was prepared the company 
had gone and Baby Dolores was called to sup- 
per. The little white head peeped through the 
dining-room door, and the big, thoughtful, gray 
eyes looked up in tender appeal to her parents as 
she said, in a pleading tremulous tone : 

“ No I frank you, mamma, I dess I better not 
eat now. You told those ladies you frot it time 
I should be boke to vait, and I sink I wood rader 
bake myself.” 

Her father and the other children laughed, 
but the mother-heart understood her baby’s dis- 
position better, and shaking her head at them 
replied: “ Very well, Dolores, mamma’s baby is 
a nice brave little girl to break herself of all bad 
habits.” 

One entire week passed before the child 
could be again persuaded to eat with the others. 
She always replied, “ No, I frank you, I am 
afraid I am not dood boke yet.” 

One day, she came skipping into the dining- 
room and exclaimed, “ Mamma I sink I am dood 
boke all wite now, don’t you ? ” 

She was naturally of an exceedingly happy, 
joyous disposition. In fact, her mother sought 
to keep her so, for she was for a little child un- 
usually susceptible to either great joy or sor- 
row. She lived the whole day long in the beau- 
tiful garden back of the house and was indeed 
a child of nature, loving the flowers, birds, fish, 
fowls, trees and brook. 

An immense flower garden of several acres, 
with clean gravel walks through it, extended far 
in the rear of the home. And near it was a 


1 12 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


large fruit orchard. Dolores, always clad in 
white, and whose hair was as white as her snowy 
little frock, tripped merrily from place to place. 
When the birds chattered she talked to them, and 
believed they understood her prattle, as she did 
also the rippling brook and little fish. Nothing 
seemed to fear this child nor did she fear any- 
thing. One summer morning her mother noticed 
her slip out into the garden in her night-dress, 
and following some distance behind was sur- 
prised to see her climb an apple tree with the 
ease of a squirrel, and hastening to the spot she 
found her seated comfortably ’mid the branches, 
droppng bread crumbs on the side of the bird’s 
nest, while the mother bird sat quietly on the nest 
eating apparently undisturbed. When Mrs. 
Hegmeyher came near, the bird fluttered and 
flew away. 

“ Oh, mamma, you frightened her ! ” ex- 
claimed the child. “ You know she is not 
acquainted with you yet. I feed her this way 
each day and we are the best of friends.” 

Her mother said, “ Daughter who taught you 
to climb trees ? ” 

“ Oh, no one ever taught me — I have just al- 
ways knew how. You know, mamma, the 
squirrels look so cunning, running up and down 
the trees, that I thought I could do it too, and it is 
not a bit hard and the greatest sport. I know 
where other birdies have their nests and will 
show you all of them, if you like.” 

This mother was too wise to severely chastise 
her child, and extending her arms, took the tiny 
little one safely down, clasping her tightly to 



“Oh, Mama, you frightened her,” exclaimed the child. 


(Shadow of a Curse) — 112 






OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 113 

her bosom — the safest place this side of heaven 
for a little one to rest. Kissing her she said: 

“ Mamma’s little girl must never come to see 
the birdies in her night-dress again. She must 
always be carefully dressed before she goes out, 
and it is not considered good taste for girls to 
climb trees.” 

“ Mamma, dear, I shall never come again in 
my night-gown, but why should I not climb 
trees ? Brother does.” 

“ First, dear, because you might fall, and 
second, because girls cannot do all things that 
boys do.” 

Dolores walked silently by her mother’s side 
for some time, her little lips pressed and her long 
lashes drooping over those gray eyes that had 
suddenly grown grave and serious. Finally, 
she said: 

“ Mamma, I don’t understand why God makes 
pleasure for boys and girls so different. Of 
course, I am such a very little girl — I cannot 
understand things like grown-up folks but if 
God made brother and I both and the birds and 
the trees, I don’t see why it is wrong for me to 
climb to see the little birdies that I love so dearly, 
and right for brother. God taught me to love 
them and they are not afraid of me, like they 
are of other children. When brother climbs the 
tree they always fly away, just like the mother 
bird did when you came; but they sit still and 
let me feed them. Oh, mamma, I do not want to 
be naughty and I do try to obey you — but, please, 
mamma dear, don’t make me give up my birdies. 
I do love them so, and will be very careful to 


1 14 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


not fall. May I continue to feed them? Oh, I 
wish I were a boy, if it is bad for little girls to 
do everything! Mamma, I cannot think that 
Jesus, who loves little children, ever meant that 
we should sit still all the time, just because we 
happen to be girls. I could never be good, that 
way, like sister — no, never! It would make me 
cross and naughty. I never feel so good and 
happy as when with the cheerful birds and bright 
pretty flowers. ,, 

And the little one burst into tears. Mrs. 
Hegmeyher lifted her daughter in her arms, 
kissed the tears away, carried her into the house 
and dressed her for breakfast. The child 
seemed exceedingly grave and thoughtful. Her 
mother was surprised at the deep, earnest 
thought and conversation of this usually gay, in- 
different little girl. After breakfast and prayers, 
Dolores was not so jubilant as usual. She seemed 
lost in deep study. Virginia and Eric started to 
school and their father to his place of business. 
Mrs. Hegmeyher called gently, 

Come, Dolores, I am now ready to go with 
you to see the birds. Here is a tiny basket you 
may have to carry the crumbs in.” 

The child seemed electrified and, spring- 
ing from her little chair, threw her arms about 
her mother’s neck almost smothering her with 
kisses as she exclaimed: 

“ Oh, mamma dear, I am so happy ! I knew 
my pretty mamma would not pain her little Dol- 
ores by keeping her from the birdies, just because 
she was a girl. I don’t want to ever be bad 
again, but it seems I just can’t help myself 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 115 

sometimes, but mamma, if Jesus loves little 
children as much as the Bible tells us he does, 
I do not believe he would be cross and keep us 
from being happy, just because we are girls. I 
think if it is rude for me to climb a tree it is 
also rude for brother even if big folks do think 
different. I love my dolls, skipping rope, pic- 
ture books and toys but I love the flowers, 
trees, brooks, sunshine, fish, birds, kitty and dog 
better, because they really and truly live and love. 
Oh, I wish I were a boy so I could climb trees, 
play ball, ride ponies, row boats, hollo as loud as 
I want to, and, when I grow up big, have a nice 
office and be a great smart man and preach and 
make great speeches or something like that, just 
like Uncle Byron. And people would not say I 
was naughty then because I would not wear 
dresses,” and stamping her little slipper on the 
walk, she exclaimed: 

“ Oh, it is mean that girls must just read 
books, cook, crochet, make pretty dresses, pow- 
der and paint their faces and try to look pretty, 
just because they are only girls and can’t help 
themselves. I know I am not pretty and can 
never be good and sweet like you and sister 
Virginia — no, never! I try and try but I just 
cannot, so I am only a plain, white-headed, little 
girl that does things like boys and then people 
call me rude.” 

Her mother was deeply concerned. The child 
had never talked so before. She seated herself 
on a rustic seat and placing her baby on her 
knee talked to her as one would to a child much 
older. She explained the great calling of women 


n6 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


and mothers in the country; that true woman 
ruled our nation; it was they who raised our 
great men, our presidents, governors, ministers, 
statesmen — all started their noble career when 
children through the training of pure, gentle, 
patient mothers ; that the noblest title ever given 
human creature was that sacred word mother, 
and that the future of our country depended on 
the present teachings of the mothers. Beautiful 
features were not really necessary to make beau- 
tiful women. Beautiful characters and dispo- 
sitions developed beautiful lives which is the only 
beauty worth considering. 

“ God grant that my little girl will always 
seek this beauty of the soul that fadeth not 
away.” 

Dolores turned her gray eyes to her mother, 
as she replied: 

“ Mamma I shall try, for I think I should 
like to be that kind of a beautiful lady. They 
walked, hand in hand, through the garden into 
the orchard, visiting all the birds’ nests. 
Dolores carefully climbed the trees and fed her 
pets. Her troubles were soon forgotten, as she 
skipped, sang and prattled by her mother’s side. 


fiR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 117 


CHAPTER XX. 

BORN UNDER THE SHADOW OF A CURSE. 

One day when Dolores was four years old, 
she sat on a board by the big gate at the entrance 
to the driveway near the public road with her 
little skirts carefully drawn about her as she 
piled sand in a heap between her little feet. 

“ Oh, pshaw ! ” she exclaimed. “ It is no use 
to try — I can never do it.” 

Dr. Kefering and wife were driving by and 
heard the remark. Checking the horse, the 
physician said, 

“ Good-morning Dolores. What is the 
trouble ? ” 

“ Oh, doctor, I just cannot make a man ! ” 

“ Do what ? ” asked the physician, laughing. 

“ Don't laugh at me, Dr. Kefering — it isn’t 
kind and I don’t like it. I have been trying for 
one hour to make a man and I just cannot make 
the sand stick together ! ” 

“ And why are you trying to make a man ? ” 

“ Oh, you know God made me out of dirt. 
But I wish he had used something nicer I might 
have been prettier then. You know Jesus told 
his children that they could do greater things 
than he, and I have tried and tried to make a 
man. But I guess this is not the same kind of 
dirt God used. Don’t you think that is the 
trouble, doctor ? ” 

“ Yes, little sweetheart, I suspect that is the 


n8 THE SHADOW PE A CURSE, 


cause of your trouble. But here is a nice box 
of candy I have brought you. I believe I would 
let the man go for a while if I were you.” 

“ Oh, thank you, doctor, you are awfully nice, 
almost as good as my papa. Of course he is the 
best man next to God; but you are certainly 
good.” 

As the physician drove away, he remarked to 
his wife : “ There is the most interesting child 

I have ever known. She knows more than some 
women, but I fear trouble awaits her. The 
world knows little of it yet, but, alas! it is too 
true : The little one was born under the shadow 
of a curse which will soon fall and darken the 
lives of one of the finest families in the South.” 

The child walked slowly to the house with the 
box of candy under her arm, but did not 
open it; she seemed lost in thought. She had 
overheard the remark made by Dr. Kefering, but 
did not comprehend its meaning. When she en- 
tered her mother met her and said, 

“ What have you there, daughter ? ” 

“ Some candy Dr. Kefering gave me. Will 
you have some, mamma ? ” she replied, opening 
the box and presenting it. “ Mamma, what does 
the shadow of a curse mean ? ” 

“ My child, where did you ever hear that 
sentence ? ” 

“ I heard Dr. Kefering tell Mrs. Kefering I 
was born under the shadow of a curse, and 
would sometime have trouble, because it would 
fall right down on top of me, and make my life 
dark and some other people’s too.” 

The mother clasped her child to her breast 


OR, U¥DER THE LILAC BUSH 119 

and heaved a deep, heavy sigh. Tears came to 
her eyes, as she exclaimed, 

“ No, no, darling — that cannot be. God for- 
bid ! The doctor is mistaken. It cannot be true. 
Do not think of his words again dear. You 
are too young to understand such remarks, and 
God grant you may never know.” 

She kissed her mother lovingly, saying, 
“ Please, mamma, don’t cry ! I do not ask ques- 
tions just to be naughty, but I like to understand 
everything that other people know.” 

Baby Dolores was much grieved. She 
thought her words had caused her mother pain. 

“ Mamma, dear, if any black shadow does 
come over me you will be with me won’t you — 
and then the bad thing will go right away, be- 
cause nothing dark could remain near your 
bright sweet smiles, for you are so good and 
nice.” 

“ Yes, daughter, whatever comes in your life 
mamma shall always be with you ready to shield 
her baby jewel.” 

That evening, when the children returned 
from school, they told their mother how their 
hearts had ached for a poor, little, ragged 
boy, who entered school that day. He was 
barefooted and his clothing was patched all 
over. 

He wore no coat, had no books, and could 
not read. The children all laughed and made 
fun of him and he had cried. . His father was 
that wicked, bad man Burns, who lived in a little 
log hut on the hill above the school-house and 
who was drunk all the time and beat his wife 
and child dreadfully. 


120 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“ The little fellow did not have much to eat 
and I gave him some of sister’s and my dinner,” 
remarked Eric. 

“ That was right son. I hope my children 
were not rude enough to laugh at this unfortu- 
nate little fellow.” 

“ Mamma, you surely know we are not so 
wicked,” replied Virginia. “ I was disgusted and 
told Lena Fair that people who did such things 
were not refined and had bad manners, and she 
was very angry with me and would not play, 
but I could not help saying it, he looked so 
pitiful.” 

“ How large is little Bentley, daughter ? ” 

“Just about as large as brother, but he is older 
than I.” 

Mrs. Hegmeyher told them of the awful ef- 
fect of liquor and how it would ruin the home 
and family of any man who indulged in it. She 
urged her boy to never let any one persuade him 
to touch it. 

“ Beware of the first drink, my son ! It is the 
very first glass that starts a boy on his down- 
ward course to a drunkard’s grave.” 

She told them how Mrs. Burns had once been 
a pretty girl of a good family, and how liquor 
had brought them to this abject poverty. She 
then selected some books and comfortable cloth- 
ing, wrote a note to Mrs. Burns requesting her 
to accept them for little Bentley, and sent the 
children to carry them to him. Mrs. Burns wept 
bitterly, as did also Bentley, who thanked them 
for the presents and their kindness at school 
the day before, when others were so cruel and 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 121 


heartless. Little Dolores heard the conversa- 
tion and was greatly impressed. She talked for 
days about the drunkard's poor, little, ragged 
boy. 

Each day she would give to her brother and 
sister a book, some candy, flowers or pictures 
for little Bennie, as she called him. 

One Sabbath she climbed on her father's 
knees and patting his cheek affectionately said, 

“ Please, papa dear, won’t you go to Sabbath 
school with us again to-day. It is not nice now, 
not a bit, since you stay away. And I walk so 
much easier, too, when you go, papa, for you 
know you always carry me; and, then, if it is a 
good place for children, isn’t it good for grown- 
up folks too? ” 

“ Yes, daughter, it is all right. But, papa is 
very busy, and has little time to attend church 
and Sabbath school. My little girl will have to 
be good and go for papa.” 

“ Yes, papa, I shall always go, but I am aw- 
fully sorry you have no time to love Jesus any 
more like you used to. I think you were so much 
happier then than now, and so was I. ” 

She climbed down and walked away slowly 
holding tightly to the hands of Virginia and Eric. 


122 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


CHAPTER XXI. 

ONLY A DRUNKARD'S CHILD. 

Dolores was now five years old and had 
started to a little summer school. One evening, 
she returned to her home and found her patient 
mother weeping bitterly. Never before had she 
seen this beautiful mamma's face bathed with 
tears. What could be the matter? She threw 
her arms around her mother's neck exclaiming, 
“ Oh, my own darling mamma, please do not 
cry ! What has happened ? " 

Mrs. Hegmeyher dried her face, kissed the 
child and with a sad, unnatural smile, replied, 

“ Mamma is not feeling well, dear, but will 
soon be all right. The sun is shining brightly. 
Kiss mamma and run out in the garden and play 
with your flowers and birds." 

Dolores slowly walked away, but she did not 
seek her beloved pets. She realized there was 
something wrong in the house and cast about in 
her busy, little brain to find out what it was. 
Virginia and Eric were in the library. As she 
passed the door Eric remarked, 

“ Sister, why is mamma weeping this even- 
ing?" 

Dolores heard the question and listened for 
the answer. 

“ Because, papa came home intoxicated. Uncle 
Ham came with him. They had both been drink- 
ing. Where are they now ? " 


OR, UNDER THE LIUAC BUSH 123 

" Uncle went away and papa is up stairs, 
asleep. Be careful and do not let the baby know. 
Poor little thing, she will learn it all too soon, 
I fear! Who would have believed our noble 
father would have come to this. Our money is 
going fast, too, and mamma's heart is broken." 

Dolores stole silently away up the stairway 
to the room where papa so often went to sleep 
lately. She walked on tiptoe to the door and 
peeped in. There he lay on a couch, sound asleep. 
His face was red and his hair and beard dis- 
heveled. She stood silently gazing at him for 
some time. Then closing the door, she descended 
the back stairway and ran into the garden. 

But she did not see the flowers or hear the 
musical brook and singing birds. No, no, the 
little baby heart was crushed and bleeding. 

She had received her first stab in life. Peo- 
ple say children cannot feel pain and deep an- 
guish. Alas, they can! 

Never did a five-year-old child suffer as little 
Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher this summer even- 
ing. She ran into a secluded spot under a lilac 
bush laden with fragrant blossoms, but her eyes 
did not see them, nor did she smell their sweet 
odor. The world had suddenly lost its beauty 
and perfume for this innocent child. 

She dropped on her knees as she had been 
taught by her dear mother, and, clasping those 
wee, chubby hands, sobbed and cried out pit- 
eously, “ Oh, dear Jesus, please come and take 
me! I am so sad. I want to die and go to 
heaven, Jesus, for I am only a drunkard's 
child. 


124 THE shadow of a curse, 

“ I used to be the little daughter of a great 
handsome, noble, good man, who went to church 
and Sunday school and had plenty of money; 
but, Jesus, he got too busy to go to church and 
be good, and then the bad man got into his heart. 
And, oh, Jesus, he is now really and truly 
drunk and the Bible says, ‘ Drunkards can’t go to 
Heaven,’ and I love my papa so that even Heaven 
won’t be real nice if he isn’t there ! 

“ Oh, why was I ever made anyhow. I know 
now why Dr. Kefering said I was born under 
the shadow of a curse. He said not many knew 
yet and it would darken the lives of the happiest 
family in Virginia and that means ours. For we 
were happier than anybody else. Oh, Jesus, 
mamma’s heart is just breaking and sister and 
brother are sad and all of our money is going 
and we will soon be poor and hungry and raggidy 
like Bennie Burns, and then all of the children 
will laugh and make fun of us, just like they do 
poor, little Bennie. 

“ Our nice, pretty home will be sold and this 
beautiful flower garden too, and we will have to 
live in an old hut, just like Bennie. Oh, dear 
Jesus, please let me die to-night, won’t you, and 
come to heaven and live with you? Dear Jesus, 
don’t you feel awful sorry for me? I can never 
be happy again, for I am only a drunkard’s little 
girl.” 

The child prayed and wept until finally ex- 
hausted, she fell asleep where she was found by 
Eric when he came to call her to supper. When 
he disturbed her she screamed and did not recog- 
nize him. He carried the little sister to the 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 125 

house where she lay for weeks with a scorching 
fever. Poor Baby Dolores came near leaving 
this world of sorrow and going to live with 
Jesus, as she had asked to do. 

No one knew of the childish agony she had 
suffered in the garden alone with God. She was 
delirious most of the time, talking continuously 
of drunkards’ children and Bennie. She would 
scream and beg her mother to hold her tight 
so they could not get her until Jesus came. Her 
father left his place of business and remained 
near her bed while her mother’s sad, gray eyes 
never wandered from the face of her suffering 
baby girl. 

Earnestly she prayed God to spare this spark- 
ling little jewel. The tiny spark of life seemed 
to hang for days on a hair balance. 

One day she lay watching her father. Mrs. 
Hegmeyher had stepped out when she whispered 
faintly, “ Papa?” 

“ Yes, darling — what does my baby want?” 

A great tear gathered in her eye and dropped 
on the pillow as she slowly whispered; 

“ Papa, dear, I don’t want to die yet — if — oh, 
if you won’t be a drunkard! But I want to go 
with Jesus if I must always be a drunkard’s 
little girl.” 

The stalwart man, stooping, kissed her and 
tears dimmed his eyes as he solemnly promised 
this suffering child that she should never again 
be a drunkard’s babe. Dolores smiled for the 
first time for weeks and soon fell into a sweet, 
peaceful slumber. 

One day, when she was convalescent, her 


126 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


father sat, with her wrapped in a warm blanket 
in his arms, when she said, 

“ Mamma, dear, will you please bring the big 
family Bible here? ” 

“ Yes, love, here it is.” 

“ Thank you, mamma. Will you now turn to 
the pledge ? ” 

She did so with trembling hands. 

“ I know what it means, papa. Mamma has 
often told me about it when we were looking at 
the pictures. Papa, is liquor good for one’s 
body? ” 

“ No, dear, I guess not.” 

“ Is it good for one’s mind? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Is it good for one’s soul ? ” 

“ Not very, I guess.” 

“ Mamma, I want a pen, please. Thank you. 
Now, papa, please hold my hand tightly and 
help me to write my name, for I shall never 
touch a drop of liquor while I live.” 

Marshall Hegmeyher took the little hand in 
his and guided it while it scribbled “ Dolores 
Emerald Hegmeyher.” 

“ Now, papa, will you put your name ju9<t 
below mine ? ” 

He smiled and wrote it carelessly. Then fol- 
lowed the name of her mother, Virginia and 
Eric. 

“ Now, papa, we are all right again, aren’t we? 
You may put me back in my bed, now — I am 
weary and must rest.” 

He gently laid her down and the tired, anxious 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 127 

mother bowed and kissed her darling, while tears 1 
of joy dropped from her cheeks unchecked, for 
God had saved her babe and through its illness 
had possibly saved the soul of her adored 
husband. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE PLEDGE BROKEN. 

Dolores Hegmeyher again regained her 
health and returned to the old haunt in the gar- 
den. She was now her father’s shadow — his lit- 
tle Guardian Angel. Afraid to let him out of 
her sight, she begged to accompany him to the 
office and, when at home, she led him by the 
hand through the gardens, talking about the 
flowers, showing him all the birds’ nests, and 
asking all kinds of puzzling questions about 
botany and ornithology. 

No one understood the secret of this little 
heart. She decided while on the languishing bed 
of affliction to try to watch her father and keep 
him from temptation. It was pathetic to see 
this usually gay little creature, but a mere babe, 
taking upon herself the yoke of so grave a re- 
sponsibility. Never was love and affection so 
lavished on any man in a home as on Marshall 
Hegmeyher. His patient, gentle wife lived for 
him and her children, while pretty, modest 
Virginia and manly Eric never disobeyed him, 
seeking to please and encourage him in every 


128 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


possible way. No loud harsh words or jangling 
was ever heard in this home. 

Godfried Hegmeyher had passed away leaving 
a warning to his sons to beware of the life he 
had lived. He warned them against wasting 
their youth and usefulness in a life of sin, in 
search of worldly gain, and then throwing a 
wasted old age, when nearing the grave, at 
the feet of a merciful Redeemer. He told them 
to be consistent ; if they lived rightly, the thought 
of death and the grave would not be appalling 
to them, as it now was to him. His death strug- 
gles were bitter and he passed to eternity where 
he would meet a just God. His wife had left 
this world of trial and tribulations with a peace- 
ful, assuring smile, requesting each child to meet 
her in heaven. 

The brothers and sisters, in both the Hegmey- 
her and Waud families, with the exception of 
Edith Waud, were married. Mrs. Waud and 
this daughter were living in the old Peaceful 
View homestead. Hamilton had married pretty 
Juliette Andrews. Little joy and happiness 
existed in their home. The timid, shrinking 
wife, with her five children, were abused and 
neglected. They were provided for in a financial 
way, but the father drank and punished them 
brutally and would be gone for weeks at a time, 
no one knowing where he was. Marshall Heg- 
meyher seemed a changed man. For several 
months he showed no tendency to waver or step 
aside from the path of rectitude. One day he 
had made a fine financial deal and felt buoyant 
and jubilant over it. He was seated with the 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 129 

family in the library when Eric looked out the 
window and saw his Uncle Hamilton's carriage 
drive up to the gate. 

A look of disappointment came over the boy's 
face as he announced : “ Here comes Uncle 

Hamilton." Dolores dropped her toys and 
climbed upon her father's knee. Mrs. Heg- 
meyher and Virginia glanced at each other and 
their faces grew pallid, as she arose and mod- 
estly received him at the door. Ham Hegmey- 
her’s face was flushed and showed plainly the 
effects of the life of debauchery he was now 
leading. He entered unceremoniously, saying: 

“ Marsh, I want you to go to the city with 
me. I drove out this way expressly for you." 

Dolores threw both arms about his neck, 
kissed him and whispered, 

“ Oh, please, please, dearest papa, do not go ! " 

Her father pressed her close to him and, 
smoothing her curly white head, remarked: 

“ Take a chair, Ham. Why are you going to 
the city? I don’t think it is necessary for me 
to go to-day." 

“ I have some business to attend to and want 
you to help me out. You know more about bar- 
gains than I do and I need you to talk for me." 

“ What is the rush to-day ? Why not another 
day as well ? " 

“ Because I promised the party to meet him 
this afternoon and must be there. Come on, 
Marsh, you won't refuse to help me out I know." 

“ Oh, well, I suppose I can go if it is really 
necessary, but I prefer remaining with my fam- 
ily. What time will you return ? " 


130 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ I don’t know ; we may not get back until to- 
morrow.” 

Marshall Hegmeyher turned to his wife, 
saying : 

“ Lillian, I guess I had better go with him. I 
will have to go to-morrow anyway to deposit the 
check I received to-day on that deal. I shall not 
be gone longer than I can possibly avoid.” 

And kissing his wife and each child fondly he 
drove away with his brother. When he bid 
Dolores good-bye her little lips quivered and the 
gray eyes were floating in tears as she sobbed? 

“ Oh, papa, dear, I am so sorry you are going,” 
then, lowering her voice to a whisper said, 
“ Please, don’t forget and drink, even if Uncle 
Ham does.” 

Gloom seemed to settle on that family after 
the father had gone. Ham Hegmeyher wielded 
a bad influence over his brother in many ways. 
He had persuaded him to drink and had secured 
his signature to various papers while intoxicated 
amounting to thousands of dollars. Marshall 
had paid them from his own private bank ac- 
count. Mrs. Hegmeyher rallied from these un- 
pleasant recollections and conversed pleasantly 
with her children on various subjects of inter- 
est until she had succeeded in diverting their 
childish minds from their sad reverie. They 
laughed, red books, played games, made candy 
and spent a. delightful evening. No one could 
have read in that cheerful, smiling face the 
burning secret of a bursting heart. She would 
shield her children, endure their burdens and 
make them happy. God had given them to her 





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OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 131 

and she was responsible for their training. If 
their father would yield to the evil tempter and 
neglect them, she must double her watchfulness 
and care, trying to do all she could to make up 
for his deficiency. At bedtime she read a chap- 
ter and prayed as usual; especially invoking su- 
preme protection on the absent loved one. Each 
child followed with their evening prayers and 
little Dolores, after repeating her “Now I Lay 
Me,” added, “ And God bless papa, mamma, 
sister, brother and Dolores, and oh, Jesus, please 
watch papa to-night and keep him good. Do not 
let him drink and make us all unhappy and I 
will be a good girl always. Amen.” 

Her simple little petition was the secret 
thought unexpressed of each heart present. The 
child in her innocence had given utterance to 
words the older ones dare not speak. The 
next day the Hegmeyher brothers returned home. 
Ham did not get out of the carriage, stopping 
only long enough to allow Marsh to alight and 
driving rapidly away. The children were for- 
tunately all in school. The patient, beautiful 
wife saw him enter the gate and hastened to 
greet him as usual. His eyes were wild and 
glassy, his features distorted, and, although he 
did not stagger, his walk was careless and in- 
different. He forgot the kiss he had always 
greeted the angelic little wife with. She pre- 
tended to not notice it and, with a gentle smile 
lighting her sad, sweet face said, 

“ I am glad to see you back, dear. It is al- 
ways lonely without you.” 

He replied, “ Ah, bosh ! Are you never going 


132 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

to get over your foolishness? Where are the 
brats?” 

Ah, better for her it would have been had he 
pierced that loyal heart with a dagger. He had 
never spoken an unkind word to her before, nor 
had he ever mentioned their interesting, well- 
trained children in such coarse, uncouth terms. 
For a second it seemed to her she must surely 
die. The world had suddenly grown dark, cold 
and dreary. Had God forsaken her also? No, 
never! and her voice slightly faltered as she re- 
plied : 

“ The children are all in school to-day you 
know, and have not yet returned. It is now only 
three o’clock, and they will not be here for an 
hour yet.” 

“Well, is supper ready?” 

“ No, Marshall, you forget. We always serve 
supper at half-past five, but, if you are hungry, 
I shall prepare you a nice lunch.” 

“ All right — get a move on you, then ! ” 

She volunteered no reply and quietly left the 
room, returning in a few minutes, carrying a tray 
spread with a delicious, appetizing lunch. 

“ Here it is husband.” 

“ Oh, I don’t want it in here,” he replied, 
harshly. “ Take it to the dining-room. What 
is the matter with you ! ” 

Her face was pale and the delicate, white 
hands shook perceptibly, as she lifted the tray 
and entered the dining-room where she carefully 
arranged the lunch on the table and, returning 
to the library, announced that it was again ready. 
Her husband ate making no further remarks, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 133 

after which he stalked out of the room and up 
stairs to his sleeping den. Lillian Hegmeyher 
sat there, still motionless; the color had left her 
face, the luster was gone from those lovely eyes. 
The beautiful features seemed drawn and hag- 
gard. One hour had added ten years — ah, more 
— a lifetime, to the experience of this wife, 
the gem of womanhood. It seemed for a time it 
would surely prove her death-blow. How could 
she live with a drunken, abuseful husband. No 
tears came to relieve her. She arose and told the 
cook to clear the table and returning to her 
private room she locked the door behind her and 
fell to her knees. Silently she looked to God for 
mercy and guidance. Her lips moved not for 
some time, but the compassionate Heavenly 
Father, who knoweth all things, understood that 
agonizing look and read the secret of that bur- 
dened soul. Finally in a voice full of anguish 
she burst forth, “ Oh, God, I need not tell thee 
anything — Thou knowest all. The shadow has 
indeed fallen on our home and my husband is 
a drunkard. Father, save him, I beseech thee! 
I am willing to sacrifice wealth, honor, happiness 
— yea, even my life if necessity demands it — 
only save my husband and children. Help me 
to carefully shield my little ones from tempta- 
tion and endure their burdens for them. Give 
me patience and wisdom in dealing with my in- 
toxicated, wayward husband. Help me to never 
speak hastily or unkindly to him, and may I in 
some way be instrumental in checking his sinful 
tendencies that he may be eternally numbered 
with the redeemed. Lord, I will suffer all, en- 


134 THE SHADOW OR A CURSE, 


dure all, take up my cross daily and follow my 
meek and lowly Master. But I plead for the 
souls of my beloved family. Grant that we may 
be undivided around the throne of God where 
sorrow dare not enter.” She arose singing: 

** Go tell it to Jesus, he knoweth thy grief ! 

Go tell it to Jesus, he will give thee relief ! 

Go gather the sunshine he sheds on thy way ; 

He will lighten thy burden, 

Go, weary one, pray ! ” 

School was out and she met the children in 
the hall, laughing and talking, jubilant and 
happy. She told them to be very quiet as their 
father had returned not feeling well and was 
now asleep. They kissed her and walked noise- 
lessly away in various directions, each guessing 
too well the exact nature of the malady. Do- 
lores, as her habit was, betook herself to the old 
hiding-place in the garden, the lilac bush to be- 
moan her lot, a drunkard’s child, and pray for 
protection. Yes, her father had actually broken 
the pledge he had signed when she came so near 
going to live in heaven — the pledge that she con- 
sidered more sacred than death ! Yes, she would 
rather die than break it. She must not be weak 
— break down and cry — that would pain mamma. 
No, she must do her weeping alone, suffer alone, 
be brave like mamma and help endure her bur- 
dens. Yes, she would live to be a blessing to 
mamma, make her happy and try to reclaim 
papa. In that way she would be the kind of 
beautiful woman mamma had so frequently told 
her about. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 135 

Marshall Hegmeyher did not come to supper 
that evening. During the night Dolores awoke 
and heard voices. It was her parents talking. 
She could hear each word they spoke distinctly. 
She and Virginia slept in an adjoining room and 
the door had been left ajar. Creeping over to 
Virginia she kissed her, whispering, “ Sister, are 
you awake ? ” There was no answer. But the 
face and pillow were wet. They had been 
bathed in tears; Virginia had cried herself to 
sleep. The child was nervous and sat erect in 
bed. She heard her mother say, 

“ Marshall, my beloved husband, why don’t 
you check your wild career ’ere it is too late. 
You do not realize how nearly you are dominated 
by the relentless enemy of mankind — the liquor 
curse. Had any one told you when we were wed 
that you should some time speak to me and of 
your children as you did to-day, you would have 
fiercely resented the assertion. But under the 
influence of that deadly poison your true noble 
self no longer existed. Your manhood was 
blasted, and sin with all its brutal, demoralizing 
effects was dominant in you. Do you not realize 
that you will soon destroy our wealth, happiness, 
home, family and the future prospects of our 
children — and, worse than all, eventually your 
own precious soul? My dear husband, this life 
will surely kill me inch by inch but I would 
count my own life as naught, if you and my 
children were only safe. If Hamilton is deter- 
mined to wreck himself and family, I plead with 
you to not allow him to ensnare you into the 
meshes of his net and drag us to destruction too. 


136 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


My own beloved husband, if you continue in this 
way our ruin is sure and inevitable.” 

He replied, “ Never mind, Lillian, I know I 
was a brute, a heartless cur, to speak to you so 
harshly, but I was mad at myself and everybody 
else. Ham or some one else got every cent of 
that ten thousand dollar check from me last 
night, and I cannot remember one thing about it. 
Ham vows he did not get the money but he 
looked and acted guilty and I believe he did. If 
he were not my own brother I would have him 
arrested, but in the future I will not drink enough 
to make me drunk.” 

“ Marshall, dear, why drink at all ? You 
drank nothing while in the west or during the 
war; nor did you drink for several years after 
we were married. Do you not think it would be 
best to avoid it altogether.” 

“ No, Lillian, that would be impossible. You 
are so pure and good that you cannot understand, 
but it is out of the question for a business man 
to get through life without occasionally taking 
a drink. I shall tell you the truth and deceive 
you no longer. I have always taken my social 
glass. When at father’s home I drank wine as 
freely as water. The first four years I was in 
the west I drank less than usual, because of my 
promise to you, but I still took my toddy. The 
six remaining years of my sojourn there I in- 
dulged more than was good for me. In fact I 
lived a fast life with wine and women trying to 
crush the lives of as many of the latter as pos- 
sible as I then believed you had done for me. 
While in the army, I drank whenever I chose and 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 137 


have always done the same, ever since we were 
married, but I have never made a fool of myself 
like many though I have taken a little too much 
lately, but I do not crave it and will never make 
a drunkard. I can drink or let it alone, at will. 
I have a mind of my own that yields to nothing 
out of reason, and it would be churlish in me to 
refuse a social glass with a friend. No Heg- 
meyher ever filled a drunkard’s grave.” 

Lillian lay some time before she dare reply. 
Then, speaking earnestly, she said: 

“ Marshall, you pain me more than you will 
ever know. How could you deceive me thus? 
You knew how I believed and trusted you. My 
word is as sacred as my oath. You vowed to me 
repeatedly that you did not drink one drop, and 
I did not doubt the assertion. I thought you 
would rather die than prevaricate. Why did you 
not tell me the truth ? ” 

“ Because I knew your sentiments and feared 
you would not marry me.” 

“ Yes, Marshall, you were quite right about 
that. I would have never been your wife. With 
all my love and almost idolatrous devotion, I 
could never have married a man who, I knew, 
drank even an occasional glass. I had better die 
of a broken heart alone than bring a family into 
the world with an inherited appetite to over- 
come, and to suffer, live and die under the ac- 
cursed title, * A Drunkard’s Child.’ A business 
man can live without the soul-destroying bever- 
age. You know what excellent business qualities 
father had, yet he never touched it. 

“ No man in this community is climbing higher 


138 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

in political, social and financial pursuits than 
Cameron, yet he looks on liquor with contempt 
and disgust. Oh, my darling husband, for my 
sake — for our children’s sake, and especially for 
the sake of your own soul, I plead with you in the 
name of your angel mother, myself, family and 
everything that is good, true, pure, noble, honor- 
able, just and holy to give up at once and for- 
ever the wine cup.” 

He replied, “ Oh, don’t be uneasy! You have 
nothing to worry about ; we are all right.” 

Mrs. Hegmeyher said no more and Dolores, 
creeping closer to her sister, lay there trying to 
comprehend the meaning of the conversation she 
had listened to. Her future loomed up before 
her, dark and appalling. Why had God per- 
mitted her to come into such a cold, heartless 
world? Even her own handsome papa was de- 
ceitful. She had heard him acknowledge it to 
mamma. But she would trust God, like mamma. 
He would care for them. And the child finally 
slept peacefully. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE HUT ABOVE THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. 

Let us peep into the miserable, wretched, old 
log hovel on the hill above the school-house where 
poor little Bentley Burns lives. There is but one 
room with a ladder extending into a rickety old 
garret. A bright wood fire is burning in the old 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 139 

broad fireplace where a feeble, gray-haired, thin- 
visaged woman — not old, but prematurely gray; 
clad in a scant old calico garment, is busying her- 
self with pans and ovens, preparing a meal. A 
crude table made of rough boards with news- 
papers spread upon it for a cloth is standing in 
the center of the floor with a few old dishes on it, 
ready for the evening repast. The other furnish- 
ings of the room consist of three or four old 
chairs and one rickety-looking old bed in a cor- 
ner of the room. A candle is burning on the 
table and sitting by the fire on a low stool is a 
boy with a book in his hand. His eyes were 
riveted to the volume as though intent on mas- 
tering its contents. The dog barked viciously 
and the woman said, 

“ Bennie, dear, there comes your father. 
You had better hide your book quickly.” 

The boy hastened up the ladder and returned 
empty-handed, again taking his position on the 
stool. The mother placed the food on the table, 
which consisted of potatoes, cornbread and milk. 
The door opened and a dirty, drunken, debauched 
specimen of humanity tumbled into the room 
and, with an oath, asked where that boy was. 
The little fellow arose saying, “ Here I am, 
father; do you want me? ” With more vile pro- 
fanity he ordered the child to go put the horse 
away, accompanying the command with a vicious 
kick. He fell to the floor and cursing hurled a 
stick of wood after the vanishing form. The 
child luckily dodged it. 

“ Is supper ready? ” 

“ Yes, it is on the table.” 


140 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


He stumbled to the table and sat there eating, 
dozing and swearing alternately. Bennie re- 
turned and, ’mid blows and curses, helped his 
mother get him to bed. He started to ascend the 
ladder to the garret, when the debauched parent 
called out, 

“ Now git that candle out and in bed quick ! 
And don’t let me ketch you reading again, or I 
will take that buggy whip and thrash you in an 
inch of your life.” 

Bennie volunteered no reply, but retired im- 
mediately to his hard bed of straw, extinguishing 
the light and placing it on a chair, with an old 
shawl fastened over the back and two sides to a 
frame made of barrel hoops. On this chair also 
lay a few books. Several hours passed but 
Bentley Burns lay there awake thinking and 
planning for the future. He must have an edu- 
cation if he made a success of life. It would be 
impossible to raise himself above the level of his 
surroundings to any great degree without an 
education ; but how could he obtain it ? He could 
not keep up with his classes this way. His 
drunken father did not permit him to study his 
lessons when he was in the house. He also 
compelled him to remain at home two days of 
each week to carry the corn or wheat to the 
mill to be ground, waiting for the meal or flour 
and again carrying his heavy burden home to 
his hungry mother, for bread. He was not al- 
lowed to take it on the horse, nor had he the 
privilege of taking enough at one time to last a 
week. It was done purposely to keep him from 
school two days instead of one. Mornings, even- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 141 


ings and Saturdays he helped the men float logs 
and railroad ties in the creek, and earned a little 
money to sustain the life of his poor, sacrificing 
mother and himself. He was her only comfort 
and support and his first duty was to her. Yes, 
he would care for her while she lived. Ah, how 
she had suffered for him ! She should be proud 
of her boy yet, and he would live to see the 
children, who had made fun of him at school feel 
it an honor to speak to him. And good Mrs. 
Hegmeyher and her children would some time 
be proud of the ragged, hungry boy they had so 
generously clothed, fed and furnished with 
books. Had it not been for them he would 
have been compelled to surrender his hopes and 
ambitions, for he could not have possibly se- 
cured clothing and books. Of course, he could 
not expect to keep up with his classes now, but he 
would not be discouraged even though he fell be- 
hind. He would push steadily and slowly to 
the front, and some time show the world what 
a boy with a will could do even though op- 
pressed by poverty, hunger and the abuseful 
blows of a drunken father. 

It was after midnight and the father was snor- 
ing in a drunken stupor below when Bennie 
arose, carefully arranged the shawl around the 
chair so no light could reflect through the 
cracks of the loft and be seen by his father 
down stairs. Dressing himself he silently lit the 
candle and wrapping his thin body with the rag- 
ged old bed covers took up his book and was 
soon lost in earnest study. Nor did he stop until 
each lesson was thoroughly learned. 


142 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

FAREWELL TO THE HAPPY HOME. 

After Marshall Hegmeyher’s confession to 
his wife of his daily habits he openly defied her 
wishes by drinking liquor at the table in the pres- 
ence of her and the children. At first the loving- 
hearted wife gently remonstrated, pleading with 
him to beware of his example and influence. He 
told her there was no sense in such foolery, and 
he would govern himself and household as he 
pleased. He believed his father’s plan the only 
proper course to follow with a family. And 
carelessly filling a glass he offered it to each 
child. The two eldest ones firmly refused, re- 
plying, 

“ No, I thank you father. I do not care for 
it.” 

But Dolores who had inherited his fiery 
temper and self-will, minus his appetite, flew into 
a rage, stamped her little foot, exclaiming loudly, 

“ No, no, I do not want it! I hate it! And I 
do not thank you for offering it to me either. 
It is bad, it is poison! It kills everybody that 
drinks it. You told me when I was so sick if I 
got well I should never be a drunkard’s child 
again. You signed that pledge too, just like all 
the rest of us, and now you drink worse than 
ever. You storied, so you did. And now I am 
nothing but a drunkard’s little girl. And we will 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 143 


all be poor and raggidy and hungry and people 
will laugh at us because our papa gets drunk and 
is not nice any more. You never do kiss me 
sweet any more like you used to and you look just 
like bad Uncle Ham. Oh, I hate him and always 
shall, because he helps to make you bad. I mean 
to keep my pledge forever, so I do. And when 
I am big I won't marry no man, because they will 
all soon get bad and act ugly like you and Uncle 
Ham do. I will just fight, and fight and fight 
against old bad whiskey as long as I live. And 
then pretty mammas and little children won’t 
have to cry and be sad and unhappy any more 
because there will be no whiskey. Do you hear 
me papa? ” 

All were so shocked and surprised at this 
violent outburst of temper that they stood 
speechless, astonished, looking at her. The usu- 
ally gentle, gray eyes were fiery and looked as 
though they could penetrate to the depths of 
eternity. Determination was written on every 
feature. Never had they seen her like this be- 
fore. Mrs. Hegmeyher was first to gain her 
presence of mind. Stooping, she clasped the en- 
raged child in her loving embrace, kissed her 
and said: 

“ Darling, look at mamma. My little girl 
never can make a beautiful woman if she gives 
way to her temper like this. Ladies with beauti- 
ful characters must learn to control their temper. 
You know how dearly we all love you.” 

“ No, mamma, I cannot think papa loves me, 
or he would not cause me so much pain,” said 
the child. 


144 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 

“ Yes, dear, father loves his little girl and you 
must never be rude, angry or cross with him 
again. If you want papa to quit drinking we 
must win him by love and kindness. Now, go to 
him and apologize for the way you have behaved 
and promise him you will never again be so 
naughty.” 

Marshall Hegmeyher had taken a chair by the 
table. His wine had not been tasted. He sat 
looking serious and thoughtful, evidently per- 
plexed. The child’s temper had spent itself, and 
tears dropped from her cheeks as she approached 
her father, saying: 

“ Papa, will you forgive me for what I said 
to you ? Mamma says it was very rude, and I am 
sorry for the bad things, but I cannot say I am 
sorry for everything I said, for I am really not, 
and it would be wrong to tell a story about it. 
Some things were true, I am sure. But I am 
very sorry I was so angry and shall try to never 
talk so again, whether it be right or wrong. I 
hope to never get so angry again. But I will 
never promise that sure, either, for I might some 
time forget and be mad and then I would have 
told you a falsehood. And I do not want to 
ever tell a lie. Please will you pardon me? ” 

He kissed her cheek and said he forgave her, 
and bid them sit down to the table. Little 
dinner was eaten that day. All seemed sad and 
depressed, and the wine remained untouched. 
After the meal was completed, Mr. Hegmeyher 
took Dolores in his arms asking her about her 
flowers and birds, something he had not done 
for months. The little one was overjoyed at 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 145 

receiving fond attention from him again and, 
forgetting her troubles, chatted gayly. The other 
children also joined in the conversation. The 
loving mother smiled, but behind the sweet, 
gentle quivering smile was a sad, forsaken ex- 
pression that she tried in vain to conceal. Alas, 
Marshall Hegmeyher's abstinence was only tem- 
porary. At the next meal he drank as usual, 
but carefully avoided another scene with Dolores 
and did not offer it to the children. Marshall 
Hegmeyher had become a continuous, perpetual 
drinker, and to all his wife's piteous appeals 
would reply, 

“ Oh, I shall never be a drunkard. I can 
drink or let it alone, just as I like." 

“ Ah, my dear husband," she replied, “ Don't 
be too sure of your strength and will power — it 
is gradually weakening. You say that, but lately 
you always drink and never let it alone. I 
shudder at our future destiny. Our fondest am- 
bitions and hopes are being shattered." 

Thanksgiving Day arrived and many relatives 
gathered at Marshall Hegmeyher's home for the 
usual celebration. Mrs. Waud, Edith and Byron 
were present. Hamilton Hegmeyher and wife 
were also there. At the dinner-table, Byron re- 
turned thanks to God for his blessings but Mar- 
shall was intoxicated. He had lost all respect for 
himself, his pure wife and family, and, bringing 
out the accursed beverage, offered it to all the 
guests. No one touched it but the two wayward 
brothers. Pretty Juliette Hegmeyher's beauty 
was already nearly gone and princely Lillian 
showed signs of decay. Little Dolores arose 
from the table, saying : 


146 THE SHADOW OR A CURSE, 


“ Uncle Byron, please excuse me ; I cannot 
and will not eat one bite at the table where my 
dear old grandmother has been insulted ! ” and 
the child ran from the room, sobbing like her 
little heart would break. Ham Hegmeyher ex- 
claimed in a drunken drawl, 

“ Marsh, if that was a kid of mine I would 
thrash the life out of her. The sassy, impudent, 
little upstart.” 

Lillian said emphatically, “ Yes, Hamilton, I 
presume you would. We all know of your 
tendency to abuse your helpless children. But, I 
thank God, she is not yours. Our children are 
treated as though they were rational human 
creatures, born in the image of God, capable of 
knowing and judging right from wrong, and are 
properly corrected when they do a thing really 
justifying chastisement but never beaten and 
abused.” 

The repast was finished and grandmother 
Waud went to seek little Emerald as she always 
called Dolores and found her in the old haunt 
sitting in the cold under the leafless lilac bush 
weeping bitterly. Clinging with her little chilly 
arms about the neck of the well-preserved, white- 
haired old lady, she sobbed out : 

“ Oh, grandmamma, please forgive me if I 
was naughty. I do try so hard to be good and 
not get angry, for I want to be a spiritually 
beautiful woman like the ladies mamma has 
told me about. But when papa drinks and does 
such bad things that he never use to be guilty of 
and makes dear mamma look so white and sad, I 
just get furious and say things before I think. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 147 

Oh, I hate bad Uncle Ham! He always makes 
papa do dreadful things. Papa would have 
never drank wine before you, if Uncle Ham had 
not been here. I do pity poor Aunt Juliette so. 
He treats her and the children so mean. Grand- 
mamma, please pray often to God for me, won’t 
you. For, if papa keeps on drinking and saying 
ugly things to mamma I fear I shall lose my 
temper often if Jesus does not help me guard it.” 

The old lady kissed her affectionately, saying, 
“ Yes, Emerald, grandmother will always pray 
for you. But, my little girl must pray too and 
carefully watch herself, and, when that hasty 
temper is about to assert itself, close your lips 
tightly and silently ask God what to say and do. 
Think well before you speak and you will be 
sure to say what is right. Determination and 
will power are blessings when properly con- 
trolled but a detriment and curse when un- 
guarded. If you ever expect to be instrumental 
in saving your father you must be kind and 
gentle to him. And dear child you must never 
again say you hate Uncle Ham or any one else. 
Hate the sin but not the sinner. Jesus died for 
all. Live a life that will draw the wayward err- 
ing one to Christ instead of repelling them. If 
you try, my child, you may prove a boon of 
comfort and consolation to your mother, and, if 
deeper sorrow should befall her, become her 
stay and protector in declining years.” 

The child’s gray eyes were grave and serious 
as she turned them upon the aged grandparent, 
saying, 

“ I shall try, grandmother — yes, I shall live 
to care for mamma ! ” 


148 l THE SHADOW PE A CURSE, 


Ham and Marsh Hegmeyher had become boon 
companions; they were always together. The 
gentle entreaties of the sad, frail little wife and 
earnest remonstrances from his elder brothers 
could not deter Marshall Hegmeyher from his 
mad, downward course to ruin. Ham seemed 
to dominate and rule him soul and body. His 
other brothers were distressed, alarmed and 
horrified. In vain they sought his company and 
tried to interest him in business pointing out to 
him his folly and the inevitable result of the life 
of such debauchery. They showed him how he 
was incapacitating himself for the broad fields 
of usefulness and the business career he was so 
capable of filling, and how he was dragging the 
purest, truest, most beautiful girl in Virginia to 
a premature grave; how he was blighting the 
lives and future prospects of three of the most 
interesting children in America. They urged 
him to spurn the friendship of Ham, their 
brother, and other low companions who were 
leading him on in his rapid rush to destruction. 
Ham had from childhood been a curse to the 
name — the wayward, reckless blacksheep of the 
family and was not to be trusted. He would 
listen to them and seem impressed but the 
minute he met Ham or one of the other three- 
score of loafers and drunkards whom one year 
ago he would have considered it a disgrace to 
even recognize or speak to, but who had now 
become his shadows for the purpose of robbing 
and bleeding him of his money and manhood. 
His will power was gone and he became a prey, a 
victim to these vicious, degraded ruffians, worse 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 149 

than highway robbers. They dogged his steps 
continuously. It mattered not where he went, 
they always followed him. The children would 
volunteer to accompany their father, saying 
sweetly, 

“ Papa, may I go with you ? I should like to 
go to the city and you know how we love your 
company.” 

For a while, their presence seemed to deter 
the gang from their evil, designing purpose and 
prove a shield and protection for their father. 
Even Dolores would go. Her little feet skipping 
along by his side, while she laughed and chat- 
tered gayly. But if one of the villainous scamps 
dare approach her father the child flashed a look 
of scorn and contempt in his direction, wilting 
and freezing him, and he would slink back from 
the presence of this strange little one. She then 
continued her enchanting prattle in so charming 
and interesting a manner that the father never 
knew or understood why he had not been ac- 
costed by any of the loafers as usual. But, alas! 
he was too far gone, and this influence was of 
short duration. He would leave the child at a 
hotel, promising to return in a few minutes, be 
gone for hours, and come back reeling with the 
effects of liquor. If beautiful Virginia were with 
him, the color would leave the closely-set lips, 
while in the clear, violet eyes could be read a 
short, agonizing biography, sealed in the secret 
recesses of that aching childish heart. Eric al- 
ways wept bitterly but Dolores would crimson 
with shame and indignation. Her eyes flashed 
fiery darts. Her little hands were clenched 


150 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


tightly together as she secretly repeated again 
and again to herself, “ Please, God, keep my 
mouth shut and help me to control my temper.” 
She had promised her grandmother to try that 
plan and never was fiercer battle fought with 
self or greater victory won, than by this little 
child. She would then take the hand of the man 
she must call father, smile and say sweetly, 
“ Come on, papa ! It is time to go home ; 
mamma will be watching for us.” 

Christmas with the beautiful tree with its 
dazzling gorgeous array of rich and expensive 
presents no longer brought happiness and joy 
to the aching hearts in that elegant home. The 
patient mother sought to cheer and brighten 
the lives of her children, while they in return 
endeavored to console her by loving, cheerful 
words. But God, who alone is able to read the 
secret thoughts of mankind, knew how each 
heart yearned for one more really happy holiday 
as it used to be before the tempter stole into their 
home unawares and blighted the life and soul 
of the head of the household. Mr. Hegmeyher 
returned from the city the night before Christ- 
mas with the carriage laden with presents almost 
innumerable, toys, books, jewels, etc., everything 
to delight the heart in a material sense, but there 
was also a vast supply of wines and champagne. 

Turkeys had been roasted and a grand dinner 
was prepared. Mrs. Hegmeyher had invited no 
guests, for she feared the day's celebration would 
not prove pleasant for the class of people she 
had always entertained hitherto. Many of those 
vile, coarse, debased creatures who had never 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 15 1 


been countenanced by the Hegmeyhers or looked 
upon with anything but pity, horror and disgust, 
had actually been invited by this once proud, fond 
father to dine with him at the sacred family 
table on this Christ’s birthday. By the time din- 
ner was ready to be served Marsh Hegmeyher, 
Ham and their friends had indulged heavily. 
Mrs. Hegmeyher took her place at the table as 
usual and bowing her head returned thanks. 

Marsh exclaimed with an oath, “ Where are 
the children ? ” 

She modestly replied, “ They are in the draw- 
ing-room; I wish them to wait until the second 
table is served.” 

Cursing loudly, he ordered them brought to 
the table. She arose and, with a slight tremor 
in her voice, replied, “ Very well if you command 
it, you are my husband and their father.” 

She had hoped to shield them from the con- 
taminating influence likely to follow the associa- 
tion with such characters but, proudly walking 
to the drawing-room door, said : 

“ Children, your father insists on your pres- 
ence at the table. Come ! ” 

They noiselessly took their places. Marshall 
Hegmeyher, with a blood-curdling oath that 
caused Virginia and Eric to turn pale and sent 
the usual crimson flush to the cheeks of Dolores, 
exclaimed : 

“ Now, let us all eat, drink and be merry. I 
want to show you kids how to spend a Christmas 
different from anything you have ever known. 
What do you think of your nice presents, 
Dolores ? ” 


152 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ My presents are beautiful, papa, and for 
them I thank you very much.” 

“ Are you having a fine time to-day? ” 

“ No, papa, thank you, I am not.” 

“ What ! not a good time ? What kind of a kid 
are you, that can’t be happy with all I brought 
you last night ? ” 

“ I could be happy with much less, papa, if it 
were what I really want. My heart yearns for 
something else.” 

" Is it anything I can give you? ” 

“ Yes, papa.” 

“ Then, out with it — anything to please the 
children at Christmas time.” 

“ I would rather not tell you papa — it might 
offend you.” 

" Oh, no danger of that — what is it ? ” 

With a look of love, devotion, anguish, pain, 
sorrow and earnest appeal from those sad ex- 
pressive gray eyes, she calmly replied : “ Papa, 
I would gladly give up every earthly treasure I 
possess if I could have my own happy home and 
handsome, honorable, sober father back again ; if 
mother could be free from the burden that is 
robbing her of everything in life worth living for. 
I should like the same gentle, refined father and 
comfortable home, filled with respectable com- 
pany where drunkenness and profanity dare not 
enter. If you will again furnish this, papa, I 
shall be the happiest child in the United States. 
Oh, I hope we shall never spend another Christ- 
mas day like this one ! ” 

“ Huh, is that all ? Some more of your moth- 
er’s fanaticism ! ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 153 

“ I do not know just what fanaticism means, 
father, but I do know what a happy home is like 
and am fast learning what it means to grow up 
a drunkard’s child.” 

He did not answer and changed the topic to 
something of interest to the people he had com- 
pelled his children to dine with. The men 
laughed, drank, were noisy and boisterous. Mrs. 
Hegmeyher and children ate but little and ex- 
cused themselves, one at a time, returning to 
their mother’s private sitting-room to avoid the 
oaths and coarse jests uttered by their father and 
his guests. 

Mrs. Hegmeyher read to them of the humble 
birth of the child Jesus who was born on Christ- 
mas Day — how he had suffered for the sins of 
the world and finally gave his life on the cross to 
save sinners. The very ones he loved had caused 
him great pain and even when they crucified him 
he forgave them and prayed for their souls. He 
was the greatest gift ever presented to mankind. 
But many had seemed to forget the original gift, 
Christ Jesus, who taught, “ It is more blessed 
to give than receive,” and looked forward to 
Christmas Day only as a time to receive many 
presents. She taught them that, although sin had 
entered their happy home bringing with it pain 
and sorrow, as it always did, many children were 
less fortunate than they. Many had no warm 
clothing, good food, nice books, music and beauti- 
ful toys. And she wondered, if Jesus possessed 
all these toys, if he would keep them or would he 
not possibly divide with those who were less 
fortunate financially. She believed he would 


154 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

not be selfish. They understood their beauti- 
ful mother’s meaning and begun immediately to 
select from their supply things for various 
children they knew whose parents were very 
poor. Nor did they select their cheaper more in- 
ferior toys but chose many of their prettiest 
presents. Bentley Burns’ basket was not for- 
gotten, but was filled to overflowing. In their 
effort to do for other children, they soon forgot 
their own sorrow and became joyous and happy 
as they ran from place to place, carrying sunshine 
and joy to many homes darkened by poverty. 

That evening they sat near their mother for 
hours, telling thrilling stories of what they had 
seen in places they had visited during the day — 
how children laughed and mothers wept when 
they beheld the contents of their baskets. At 
prayer that night the mother thanked God that 
it was possible to receive our greatest blessings 
by doing for others, while the children called 
each child they had visited during the day by 
name invoking God’s care for them. Nor did 
they forget their own wayward father and the 
men who had with him, desecrated the birthday 
of Christ, who had died for just such as they. 

Year after year passed and the home life of 
the Hegmeyher family had become almost at 
times unbearable. But the patient, sacrificing 
mother, with the same sweet, sad smile, sought 
continuously to keep herself and children above 
the merciless, surging waves that beat against 
their firm foundation of faith, sweeping into 
the fathomless pit all earthly treasures and pos- 
sessions. The world at last knew of their sor- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 155 


row and shame. The shadow had at least fal- 
len, engulfing them in such dense darkness that 
their escape seemed hopeless. Their money had 
gone to help fill the coffers of the liquor dealer. 
Horses, carriages, farms, houses and lots had fol- 
lowed in rapid succession, and now the great 
blow had fallen. Nelse Criss the big, burly 
saloonkeeper had a. mortgage on the beautiful 
home where each of the children had first opened 
their eyes to behold the light of day and now 
their money was gone. The mortgage could not 
be lifted and the man who had furnished the 
deadly poison to debauch their father and ruin 
their home and family, had ordered the house 
vacated. Where should they go? There was 
but one place left for them — the old Waud home- 
stead at Peaceful View. Mrs. Waud and Edith, 
whose lives had been as pure as the snow-white 
lamb, had passed to their heavenly reward to 
rest eternally with the redeemed souls of those 
of the family who had preceded them to the land 
of glory and left the dear, old homestead to Lil- 
lian. But even this was in danger, for, in some 
way, Marshall Hegmeyher had managed to secure 
the deed in his name. 

Virginia Hegmeyher was now nineteen years 
old and a perfect dream of marvelous beauty 
and gentle, sweet, sad, intelligent womanhood. 
She was the belle of the community, as dainty, 
pure and delicate as the lily of the valley, her 
favorite flower. Eric had grown to be a strong, 
manly boy of seventeen. He was no longer a 
child ; misfortune and worldly experience had de- 
veloped him into a thoughtful, earnest man. 


156 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


Dolores, a child of nine, had a woman’s mind, a 
woman’s heart of love, a woman’s experience and 
sorrow, a woman’s will and determination. Her 
mother was the idol of her life. To this child 
that mother was the one piece of human perfec- 
tion, and from this model of womankind God 
had patterned all others. She was the one true, 
pure, gentle, noble, beautiful and good. All 
others were lesser lights, and only gleamed in 
subdued and paler shades in contrast to her im- 
perial superiority. Marshall Hegmeyher not 
only wasted his substance in riotous living but 
when financial reverses had overtaken him he 
gave vent to his anger by abusing his wronged, 
neglected family with blows and curses. They 
lived in perfect dread of his return home, es- 
pecially when Ham came with him. Pretty 
Juliette, his wife, had collapsed under her burden 
and passed into a premature grave while her five 
motherless children endured the galling yoke and 
merciless blows of a drunken father and un- 
couth stepmother. 

Ah, none will ever know the pangs and agony 
of that poor heart the day Lillian Constance 
Waud Hegmeyher left their once happy, beautiful 
home, never more to return — the home soon to 
be occupied by the illiterate family of Nelse- 
Criss, the saloonkeeper, who owned a low dive 
saloon in the city slums, while his coarse, unre- 
fined family had always resided in the upper flat 
of the same building. Ah, they would soon live 
in luxury in the Hegmeyher mansion — but it 
could never buy for them true character. Lil- 
lian Hegmeyher would not have exchanged her 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 157 

fair name and that of her ancestors for all the 
gold and ill-gotten gain of Nelse Criss and his 
family with their low progeny. Her husband 
was a victim, but thank God he had made a 
living for his family by dragging others to ruin. 
She would rather leave to her children as an 
inheritance a fair name than gold stained with 
innocent blood, the price of food and clothing 
from widows and children. Yes, the money that 
had taken her beautiful home and destroyed 
her happiness was truly blood money! 

Pretty Juliette Hegmeyher was only one of 
thousands of murdered souls who would appear 
face to face against Nelse Criss, Bushy Johnson, 
and all others in this soul-destroying business 
and demand of them restitution for the murder 
of their loved ones. Yes, the day would surely 
come, when God, the impartial judge, would 
avenge the wrongs of the helpless victims of the 
liquor curse. And would these men stand ac- 
quitted on that great day? No, never! They 
were guilty of crime ten thousand times deeper 
dyed than the vilest criminal in our state prisons. 
The felon killed, possibly, one or two; while the 
liquor dealer murdered his thousands and an- 
nually paid the government a pittance of taxes for 
this dastardly privilege. Would our boasted 
America, the land of the free give license to a 
man to go out with a gun to shoot all who 
chance to venture near him — men, women and 
children, or to enter homes at random, robbing 
them of their valuables? Ah, no, certainly not! 
The very suggestion was absurd. But, alas ! this 
same government she so much loved was year 


158 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

after year, for a paltry tax, placing a far more 
dangerous weapon in the hands of unscrupulous 
men, allowing them to daily issue out the deadly 
poison, causing nine-tenths of the murders and 
suicides — filling the insane asylums, peniten- 
tiaries, jails, almshouses and orphanages. Would 
our people never awake to the fact that a slavery 
more pitiable, distressing, galling, merciless, ap- 
palling, horrifying than had ever existed before 
had our entire nation under bondage. No Amer- 
ican was safe. Not one remained free. Not 
even the total abstainer, for their loved ones were 
ensnared victims to this traffic of body and souls. 
Fathers became slaves ; mothers and children in- 
herited the bondage and, with their starving, un- 
clad bodies, paid the penalty by death. Lillian 
Hegmeyher, in the room where she had morning 
and night for twenty-one years sought the throne 
of grace, fell to her knees on the bare floor and 
cried out to God in such agony as only a Chris- 
tian mother, and wife of a drunken husband, can 
understand. 

“Oh, God ! ” she sobbed, “ I am bidding 
farewell to my beautiful home forever. It seems 
I must die! But we don’t die of trouble; if it 
were true, some wrongs would be righted ; but I 
plead with them to sustain me. Spare me for 
the sake of my children! Never did children 
need a mother’s love more than mine! They 
are worse than orphans. Had their father died 
while a noble, true, respectable citizen, they could 
have mentioned his name with pride. But, alas ! 
now they must blush with shame, because he is 
a drunkard. Check his career quickly — and, oh, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 159 

God, save my boy — my precious Eric! Shield 
him from temptation ! Forbid, Oh, God, forbid 
that I should be a drunkard’s mother also ! And 
save my daughters from drunken husbands. I 
am willing to sacrifice joy, everything — only give 
me my little family eternally in heaven and I 
shall count my life not wasted. From now 
henceforth I shall live for them and suffering 
humanity.” 

And while this saintly, heart-broken mother 
agonized for the last time in this unfurnished 
room, a little nine-year-old girl was bidding fond 
farewell to her brooks, fish, birds and flowers in 
the old beloved garden. Tears streamed down 
her cheeks and had been caught in the folds of 
the snow-white little apron until few dry spots 
remained in the snowy little garment. Finally 
coming to the old haunt, the lilac bush, she fell 
with her little face buried in the velvet lawn 
under the shadow of the blossom-laden bush, for 
the last time murmuring forth her anguish, pray- 
ing alternately to die and then to, live for 
mamma’s sake. After she had prayed and wept 
for some time, she calmly arose, saying: 

“ Good-bye, my dear old home and beautiful 
garden! But not farewell — I am leaving you 
perhaps for a long, long time but not forever. 
I shall come back to you some time. And you 
shall be my very own. The saloon man’s family 
will never love you as I do, because they do not 
know how to really love nature, God, truth and 
honor. 

“ I am sorry for them. They have never been 
taught to love anything but sin. I do not hate 


i6o THE SHADOW OF A CURSE; 


them, I pity them. Grandmother, mamma and 
God have taught me to love my enemies, as Jesus 
did. I would rather be poor and lonely and a 
drunkard’s child than the daughter of a rich 
saloonkeeper. Mamma says bad money can 
never buy honor and character. I shall grow up 
to be a woman soon. I will never be pretty like 
mamma and sister Virginia, but I shall live for 
mamma, God and right, and resent any wrong 
done either of them, even though I stand alone. 
I do not believe woman should always keep still 
nor do I believe God meant us to be seen and not 
heard. I, for one, am nothing very beautiful to 
see, but I shall be heard. I shall fight liquor if 
I die for it. I shall earn my own money and 
buy the old homestead again for a relic of the 
once happy days before we were bound by the 
chains of slavery. By that time this bad man, 
Mr. Criss, and his common family shall have run 
their race. Neither the money nor family of 
saloonkeepers lasts long.” And clasping her arms 
around the flowering tree, she cried out, “ Good- 
bye, dear, old secret closet of prayer. I fear you 
shall hear few prayers in the future, but I shall 
always love and cherish you for the peace and 
comfort I have received under your perfumed 
branches ! ” And, gathering a handful of the 
purple flowers, she walked slowly from the sacred 
spot to the house. 


QR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 161 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A BLIGHTED WEDDING. 

Lilli/ n Constance Waud Hegmeyher was 
again living in the dear old homestead at Peace- 
ful View ; but, ah, how things had changed ! She 
was no longer the gay, brilliant, light-hearted, 
dazzling girl whose peals of laughter used to 
sound like silvery bells through the rooms of that 
happy home, causing sunshine and gladness to 
penetrate the heart and very life of every one 
with whom she came in contact. She was still a 
beautiful woman. But it was the gentle, conse- 
crated, sweet, sad beauty that comes to a life 
only through sacrifice leaving a history too pite- 
ous and sacred for repetition. Here the happy 
Waud family had resided, year after year, in*, 
peace and harmony without one word of friction,, 
jar or turmoil. God’s abiding love had filled 
each heart. Of this family of eleven, four re- 
mained, Lillian, Malcina, Cameron and Byron, 
Seven had passed to the world beyond to await 
their coming. She walked down by the river 
where she had sat meditating on the lives of 
Blennerhassett, the day Leonard Nealey had 
sought' her hand in marriage. He was still 
a sober, industrious man — one of the most hon- 
orable citizens of the state. He did not marry 
for many years after she had wed, and even now 
a shadow seemed to rest on his countenance when 


162 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


they chanced to meet. Did she regret her choice ? 
Yes, and no. She regretted that she had married 
Marshall Hegmeyher because he had deceived 
her and destroyed her life of usefulness, bring- 
ing children into the world to suffer from his sin 
and folly. But she did not love Leonard Nealey. 
No marriage was legal in the sight of God with- 
out love. Ah, better had she refused both. Had 
she known all she now knew she would have done 
so. But, alas! she was now bound to the man 
she loved and once believed to be true. Her 
love and confidence had been misplaced. But 
Marshall Hegmeyher was her husband still and 
the father of her children. She would love him 
always and be true until death. 

Coming up to the gate where they had parted 
that bright June day when she had known but 
eighteen short summers she stood silently think- 
ing of their blighted hopes. Ah, he had promised 
to give up everything — his very life if necessary, 
and live to love, serve and make her happy. How 
he had portrayed their future home with such 
enchanting, realistic, perpetual joy and happi- 
ness. No sorrow could ever enter to mar its 
sacred precincts. How she had trusted and be- 
lieved him. Alas, he was even then deceiving 
her, as he sipped the deadly drug that was to 
poison their cup of love and shatter their hopes. 
She imagined she could now see him, as he 
drove down the lane so handsome, stately, noble, 
brave. Ah, what had become of his pride, his 
boasted will power. Just like thousands of 
others his manhood was dead. The real E. 
Marshall Hegmeyher lived no more. Liquor 


* 



As she watched the end of the lawn, she beheld the 
degraded brothers drawing toward the house. 


(Shadow of a Curse) — 163 
















































OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 163 

ruled his tenement of clay. His noble self had 
been destroyed. As she watched the end of the 
lane where he had turned that day and saluted 
her, she beheld Ham and Marshall the two 
miserable, degraded brothers driving toward the 
house. One look was sufficient to reveal their 
condition. Sickened in heart, body and soul she 
hastily withdrew and ran into the house. 

The family in the old Peaceful View home- 
stead no longer lived in luxury, instead it re- 
quired much thought and careful management 
to meet the necessary demands of the household 
and cash was not always forthcoming to provide 
even the smallest necessities. They were re- 
duced to poverty. The servants were gone 
Mrs. Hegmeyher and little Dolores carefully per- 
formed the menial labor of the home, for they 
could no longer afford a domestic, while the elder 
children maintained the family. Virginia se- 
cured a certificate and taught school for many 
years. Eric accepted a position away from home 
and sent to his beloved mother a part of his 
meager income. Most of the rich, old furniture 
had been sold and carried off from time to time 
to defray the expenses of some drunken carousal 
and debased ribalding. The old mansion with its 
scant furniture, threadbare carpets, faded paint 
and wallpaper, reminded one of the monarch tree 
of the forest divested of its rich foliage, slowly 
but surely decaying and wasting away. Marshall 
Hegmeyher no longer made any attempt at re- 
spectability or reform. He would be gone for 
weeks, drinking and gambling. The family 
knowing nothing of his whereabouts, and, after 


164 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 

a prolonged debauch, would return to curse, beat 
and abuse his poverty-stricken family. Poor 
beautiful, crushed Lillian was no longer gowned 
in rich brocades and velvets; but in clean, neat 
laundered gowns she still met her husband at 
the door, with the same sweet smile and gentle 
words of welcome home, usually receiving in re- 
turn blows and curses. This once loving hus- 
band, now continually dominated by liquor, was 
heartless, cruel, vile and brutal. 

Virginia was much admired and exceedingly 
popular and, when but twenty-one years of age, 
resigned her position as teacher leaving the home 
of sorrow and misfortune to become the bride of 
Vincent Brockway, her young lover. 

The marriage of his eldest child seemed to 
impress Marshall Heymeyher once more and im- 
pede his downward rush. He straightened up, 
ceased to indulge in the fiery, life-destroying 
beverage, and insisted that the marriage cere- 
mony should be performed in the home and a 
wedding supper prepared. He promised to re- 
main a sober man and with his own hands painted 
and varnished the few remaining old pieces of 
furniture, the relics of more prosperous days. 
The family were rejoiced. Possibly he would 
be reclaimed, after all. Their pain and anguish 
changed to gladness. They no longer cared for 
the wealth that had been so ruthlessly swept from 
their grasp. Kindness and love from a worthy 
respected sire was the only boon they now craved. 
The children were overjoyed. Even the sad, 
sweet smile of their sacrificing mother gave 
way to an expression of restless, uncertain de- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 165 

light. Many guests were invited, and this proud 
family endeavored to entertain on a minor scale 
after their custom of former happy days. Vir- 
ginia’s neat but inexpensive trousseau was 
becoming and pretty. The great, old, barely- 
furnished parlor was daintily decorated with a 
profusion of wild ferns and field daisies. The 
guests arrived and everything seemed harmo- 
nious, bidding fair to furnish a happy, joyous 
wedding day for the beautiful bride. Dolores, 
in a fluffy, airy, little frock of organdie and Val- 
enciennes lace, carrying a basket laden with 
simple, little, yellow and white marguerites, was 
the only attendant. Marshall Hegmeyher, 
dressed in a rich, black suit, made in the con- 
ventional style, certainly furnished a striking 
contrast to the carelessly-clad creature seen re- 
cently on the streets, reeling and tottering, with 
a clogged, irrational brain. He was more like 
his real self than he had been for years. Tears 
glistened on the lashes of his proud wife, as 
she noted the return of the old manners, dignity 
and grace. Yes, he was again her own, noble 
husband, as of yore. He was to give his daugh- 
ter in marriage to the prospective son-in-law. 
And just before time for the ceremony he, with 
his brother Ham, cautiously disappeared into an 
unoccupied room where he took a glass of cham- 
pagne to buoy up his spirits and sustain him for 
the trying ordeal he was about to undertake. He 
craved the drug and was easily persuaded to take 
the second glass; thus jeopardizing his manli- 
ness, the triumph of his daughter’s wedding day, 
the joy of his family and the pleasure of the 


1 66 [THE SHADOW OR A CURSE, 


company. When he glided down the corridor 
to the strains of Mendelssohn's wedding march, 
with his daughter on his arm she inhaled the 
sickening order of his foul breath, and knew the 
promise had again been broken. Thus she 
approached the sacred altar with a burdened 
heart. He performed his part of the ceremony 
becomingly; but, 'ere the festivities were com- 
pleted, he was seized with delirium and carried 
forcibly from the guest's chamber cursing and 
abusing the modest bride, casting gloom on the 
entire company, marrying the bliss and joy of 
beautiful Virginia's beautiful bridal eve. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A MARTYR TO THE CURSE. 

The life of that angelic girl Virginia Hegmey- 
her had begun 'mid desirable surroundings and 
environments. This innocent child had a nature 
utterly void of evil. She knew no wrong, had 
never disobeyed her parents or spoken one un- 
kind word to any member of the family. Her 
life seemed too pure, gentle and holy for earthly 
contamination. She had not been strong enough 
to endure the exposure of a country school- 
teacher together with the trials and privations al- 
ways experienced by the family of a drunkard. 
Her health had been impaired and the little 
bride soon went into slow but sure decline. Her 
married life was short, and two years from her 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 167 

wedding day God called her from a life of suf- 
fering and pain to dwell with him in peace sub- 
lime, where sin and sorrow dare not enter, 
j leaving an infant daughter but eleven months old 
to face the trials and temptations of a cold, heart- 
less world, without the care and protection of a 
mother’s love. The little one was placed on the 
bed by the side of her dying mother who kissed 
the tiny little hand and exclaimed, “ Oh, Monica, 
Monica, mother’s darling little daughter! How 
can I leave you not knowing how you will be 
j raised ? I have prayed to be spared for the sake 
of my child. Vincent, I should like my mother 
t to train and raise my baby.” 

He replied, “ No, Virginia, please do not ask 
that — I cannot give you and the baby both up ! ” 

She closed her eyes, while tears trickled down 
her pale cheeks, her hands were tightly clasped 
and the pale lips moved in an audible prayer for 
supreme protection and guidance for her innocent 
babe so soon to be left a motherless orphan. 
Then, with a smile almost divine, she once more 
spoke sweetly, 

“ God’s will not mine be done. Mother I can 
give my baby up now, for I know God will give 
her to me. Father Brockway, if Vincent will not 
let mother have my baby, I beseech you to see 
that she is properly brought up and surrounded 
by Christian environments. Do not raise her as 
a weed in a swamp, but ’mid Christian people, 
that she may become a model Christian, for no 
other life is worth the living. Father Hegmey- 
her, come here! Please, kneel by my bedside. 
Ah, father, dear, I am going home to live with 


1 68 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


Jesus. It is harder to part with you than the 
others; for, without you change your evil prac- 
tice quickly, I shall never see your face again. 
Oh, papa, papa, it is not hard to die when you 
have Jesus with you! But how could you meet 
the grim monster without a Savior? Promise 
me to be a better man and join me in heaven, 
where we shall rejoice forever more ! ” 

He kissed the poor, emaciated hand and 
sobbing, said : 

“ Oh, Virginia, my child, my firstborn, if I 
had only died long ago it would have been better 
for all. But, alas, it is too late! I cannot re- 
sist it ! ” 

“ No, no, father, do not say that it is too late ! 
You can yet be saved! Jesus came not to call 
the righteous, but sinners to repentance, and he 
can save you. Will you try? Oh, will you not 
promise to meet your dying child at the throne of 
God ? ” 

“ Yes, my poor child I shall try ! ” 

“ Good-bye, father, for awhile. But we shall 
be an undivided family in the realms of glory. 
Mother, do not weep. There is not one straw 
between me and my God. No, not one. Why 
do you grieve? My crown is so bright, my 
flowers already blooming in heaven. And won’t 
it be lovely to sit at the foot of the cross and 
gather blossoms with the angels. Only a little 
while, mamma, dear, and you shall join me. 
Eric be a noble man. Touch not, taste not, 
handle not. Enter not into temptation. Avoid 
even the very appearance of evil. Shun the 
tempter that has given us so much pain and hu- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 169 

mility. Be strong and help father. Don’t be 
afraid to say no. And be kind and gentle 
with patient, suffering, heart-broken mother! 
Be a Christian and meet me, where parting 
is no more. And Dolores, my baby sister, 
how I have loved, petted and adored you. 
Never was sister’s love greater than mine. 
Oh, how I have fairly idolized you, studying 
your disposition, watching over and direct- 
ing your thoughts — guarding and supervis- 
ing your education. Alas, my dear, I must leave 
you ! But you are a wise child for thirteen years, 
and I have no fear for your future. God has 
blessed you with a strong mind, and I want you 
to watch over your little niece, Monica. Teach 
her the many little things I have taught you, 
train her as I have you. Be a little mother to her. 
If she forms habits unbecoming a lady coax her 
out of them. Point out the wrong and direct 
her aright. Remember, she has no mother and 
sister as you have had. Be a true Christian al- 
ways, and help her to become one. Do not live 
a giddy, frivolous, worldly, society life. It does 
not pay. Lives foolishly spent will profit but 
little in the end. It is a waste of valuable time, 
useful talents and great intellects. The girl who 
lives for self and sinful vanity will have done 
but little for humanity and God. Be firm, stead- 
fast, true, ever on the side of right e’en though 
you stand alone ’mid the scoffs and jeers of the 
wicked. And when you are nearing eternity, as 
I am to-day, death and the grave will not appall. 
You will be happy to know you will soon be with 
Jesus.” She, faltering, said, “ Meet-me-in-heav- 


i7o THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


en-one-and-all ! ” Again the tremulous voice 
grew clear and strong, while a heavenly reflec- 
tion lit her countenance, as she sang, sweetly : 

“lam going home to die no more. 

No more of sin and sorrow. 

No more to wear the brow of care, 

I am going home to ” 

The voice was stilled in death — the sentence 
unfinished. But all knew she had indeed passed 
to dwell in the mansions prepared for her in the 
world of redeemed souls. Yes, pretty, gentle 
Virginia Hegmeyher Brockway had been pre- 
maturely called as a witness before the one just 
Judge and the great bar of God — another victim 
of the liquor curse, brought to an early grave 
from disease contracted through neglect and 
exposure. 

Her aunt Malcina Waud Ruthford had also 
passed away six months previously, leaving but 
three of the old Waud family. Lillian had fol- 
lowed father and mother and six brothers and 
sisters to the grave and had endured all bravely ; 
but this last stroke was too great for her. How 
could she part with her firstborn — her eldest 
child — her loving, gentle, sweet Virginia? She 
sank into unconsciousness. Physicians were 
summoned and labored faithfully to sustain life 
and were eventually rewarded for their diligence. 

She rallied slightly but it was some time 'ere 
she could speak. The crushed, aching heart had 
received a stab almost unto death. The doctors 
diagnosed the case as organic heart trouble, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 171 

likely to cause demise at any minute, even if she 
recovered from this attack. Excitement or a 
sudden shock would cause relapse and in all 
probability prove fatal. Never did those sad, 
sweet lips look so pale before, nor those deep, 
thoughtful, gray eyes have that far-off, vacant 
stare. She spoke no words. Tears came not 
to those bursting, aching orbs to relieve them. 
She had all her life lived for others. How she 
had loved and obeyed her parents! 

Her greatest pleasure while under the parental 
roof had been found in making others of the 
household happy. She had adored her brothers 
and sisters. How carefully she had concealed 
all burdens, enduring them bravely alone ! How 
happy this family of eleven had dwelt together 
in perfect harmony ! Ah, she had already looked 
into the open grave, the last earthly resting-place, 
of eight out of eleven. Yes, eight times this 
beautiful woman had been called upon to don the 
shadowy garb of crape. But she still had her 
husband and family left. That once noble hus- 
band — ah, how she had loved, served and fairly 
idolized him ! Yes, she had trusted him as only 
pure, innocent woman can love and trust. But 
he had deceived her — dragged her and her family 
from their high position into the meshes of pov- 
erty and disgrace by living a life of iniquity and 
sin — even trying at times to instill it into the lives 
of their innocent offspring. How bravely she 
had endured all this and carefully shielded them 
from temptation, curses and blows, receiving 
them many times instead on her own tender, deli- 
cate pink and white shoulders. Never had she 


172 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


spoken one unkind word in her life in return to 
her degraded husband’s heartless abuse. Never 
had she spoken harshly or punished a child un- 
necessarily. She had lived for them, trying to be 
happy. But now, oh, God, what could she do? 

Must she part with them, also? Was it pos- 
sible that they,' too, would be taken from her by 
the relentless enemy of mankind, “ Death ”, leav- 
ing her in poverty and alone ? Here lay the cold, 
icy remains of her firstborn, her own flesh and 
blood. The lips she had taught to speak their 
first words “ Mother ” were closed forever. 

The baby hands she had fondled in infancy, 
now grown to womanhood, would never lov- 
ingly clasp hers again. Ah, were her darlings 
to go, one by one, and leave her in a cold world 
motherless, fatherless, brotherless, sisterless, 
childless, homeless — and, yea, a thousand times 
worse than husbandless? Had God forsaken 
her? What had she done to bring all this upon 
her? Had she been born only to suffer? Never 
in her life had her faith in God wavered before. 
Had he indeed deserted her in this her great- 
est hour of trial? She must surely die — how 
could she live? 

Dolores had knelt by the clay of her beloved 
sister, sobbing as though the little heart would 
burst : “ Oh, my beautiful Virginia, how can I 

ever live without you? God knew you were too 
pure, wise and good for earth, so he has called 
you home with him. You will never know more 
of sin and sorrow. Oh, I wish I could have gone 
with you. But I am not pure enough for heaven. 

Oh, God, help me to be good. Prepare me for 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 173 

the battles of life. Help me to grow up a useful 
woman. Show me just what to do and just how 
to do it. May I never falter in the performance 
of a duty. Help me to be a comfort and conso- 
lation to dear mother. I can never be sweet and 
beautiful like my angel sister but I can be gentle 
and true. Help me to endure the burdens of 
others as precious mother and sister have always 
done. And above all help me to right the wrongs 
done my own beloved ones.” 

She bowed her childish head, kissed the ice- 
cold forehead of the departed sister, while the 
scorching tears fell unchecked. Finally, she 
arose, dried her face, and with a look of agony, 
determination, will power and wisdom — astound- 
ing for one of maturity, but absolutely appalling 
to behold in a mere child. 

“ Good-bye, darling sister — but not ‘ farewell.’ 
I shall some day meet you in heaven. But not 
until my work is finished on earth. Ah, even 
the good and pure must suffer and die from the 
effects of sin. You were always too good and 
innocent to battle with the monster, so your sweet 
life was blighted and crushed. You too have 
been murdered. Yes, I say murdered. The 
newspapers say * You passed away after a 
lingering illness.’ Physicians say, ‘ You died 
of tuberculosis.’ But God the great judge 
of the universe says, ‘ Back of the pulmonary 
trouble and lingering illness was the neglect, 
exposure, and abuse of a man no longer himself ; 
with a brain crazed with liquor sold him by low- 
bred saloonkeepers, licensed by the government, 
and voted for by the people.’ Yes, sister dear, 


174 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

you were murdered, assassinated in your sweet, 
harmless innocence. But who was guilty of the 
cowardly, dastardly act? Who struck the blow? 

“ God knows and will surely punish all con- 
nected with the crime. Not one will pass without 
a sentence. It will be final. They can carry 
their case to no higher court. Their doom will 
be just and certain. I shall live to fight for the 
right. God will help me, and through him I shall 
gain the victory. Yes, I shall, I will, I must live 
to avenge the wrong done you and poor innocent 
mother. I must be a woman now. I shall go to 
mother at once and try to help sustain her/’ 

She calmly quit the death chamber and entered 
the room where her mother lay in a semi- 
conscious condition. The physician motioned 
her away. But the child heeded not the warning 
gesture, and approaching the bed stooped and 
fondly kissed her mother’s trembling lips as she 
whispered, 

“ Mother, darling, for my sake please do 
not give up. I know her place can never 
be filled and it is hard, oh, so bitter for you, 
but God needs you on earth yet. What would 
become of brother and I if you were gone. 
I am but thirteen years old — just at the age 
when a girl most needs a mother. Live for our 
sake, mother dear. We shall be true to you. I 
shall never disobey you, and shall always do only 
the things you approve. I shall spend my life 
while you live, trying to undo wrong and make 
you happy. Yes, you shall sometime be proud of 
me yet. Oh, mamma, I love you more than you 
know. God is still with Us even in death. Come, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 175 

mamma, can't you trust him? Let us live for 
him and each other ! ” 

The child’s appeal strengthened her mother’s 
confidence in God. She kissed the sad, little, 
upturned face passionately saying, 

“ Yes, daughter, you are right. It was wicked 
for me to forget God’s love and mercy even for 
one minute. I shall endure all with his help for 
the sake of you and Eric, and to help reclaim 
your father. God will bear our burdens and 
strengthen our infirmities. You are a great com- 
fort to me, dear, and I thank God for such a 
child.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

GO TAKE THE MURDERER FROM MY PRESENCE. 

Did Marshall Hegmeyher keep the vow made 
to his dying child? Ah, no, he turned to the 
accursed bowl for comfort, seeking to drown his 
sorrow therein, and the day of the interment it 
was the strong arm of Eric Hegmeyher that sus- 
tained his bereaved mother instead of the hus- 
band who had at the sacred altar pledged to her 
eternal constancy and protection. This man lay 
in a drunken, unconscious stupor, unfit to accom- 
pany the remains of their beloved child to the 
cemetery. 

He rallied from his torpor while they were 
gone and drove to the city with Hamilton Heg- 
meyher. Mrs. Hegmeyher and her children re- 
turned to the old Peaceful View Homestead and 


176 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

ten days elapsed ’ere the husband and father 
appeared again accompanied by Bushy Johnson, 
the saloonkeeper. When Lillian saw them ap- 
proaching the house she hastily withdrew from 
the parlor. They boisterously entered the old 
bare corridor and Marsh, with a blood-curdling 
oath, called out loudly, 

“Hay, Lill, where are you? Get yourself 
down here.” 

The frail, sad-faced woman gowned in black, 
noiselessly descended the stairway and entered 
the room. Her lips were pale and the palm of 
her left hand was clasped tightly over her heart. 

The pain that had pierced her like a dagger 
the day Virginia’s soul passed into the immortal 
state had seldom left her since. Her husband, 
staggering, exclaimed, “ Mr. Johnson, this is my 
wife.” The sad face turned ashen, the bloodless 
lips were tightly pressed, the little ivory-white 
hands trembled as she supported herself by 
grasping the back of a chair. The care-worn 
but proud head bowed slightly in acknowledg- 
ment of the introduction to one of the coarsest, 
vilest, most degraded men in Virginia — presented 
by her husband — the man who above all others 
should have protected her against such contam- 
inating association. 

“ Well, Lill, I guess there is no use beating 
around the bush about it. I may as well tell you 
the truth first as last. My good old friend here, 
Bushy, has bought this old place and we will 
have to skedaddle. He wants to send some car- 
penters and painters out right away to fix it up 
fit for decent folks to live in.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 177 

She gasped and shuddering sank into the 
chair. Her head fell back and her white hands 
hung seemingly lifeless at her side. The rum- 
crazed husband, unconscious of what he had 
done, and absolutely void of compassion, raving 
like a maniac, fiercely grasped the slender wrist 
dragging her from the chair cursing and exclaim- 
ing, 

“ You will sit still and stare like a fool at my 
company widl you? I’ll bring you down from 
your fine high rank, and show you how I can 
sell this place or any other if I choose. Help 
yourself if you can. Stand up there I say and 
bow to the gentleman.” 

And he pushed the helpless form from him 
and it fell, heavy, limp and motionless to the 
floor. Dolores, from her window up stairs, 
had seen the carriage drive up to the gate, heard 
the commotion and, rightly suspecting the cause, 
ran to her mother’s rescue, entering just in time 
to see her body thrown so brutally to the floor 
by the husband’s hand and falling at the feet of 
the drunken wretches. Springing to her side she 
gently raised the pale, beautiful head and, kissing 
it, placed it on a cushion. She then ran to the 
cabinet and secured a stimulant, bathed her mo- 
ther’s face, dropping a few drops between the 
closed lips. Tears rained down on the silent, 
sweet, upturned face. Turning to the men, she 
commandingly said, “ Open the windows and 
doors!” 

Bushy Johnson meekly obeyed. “ Now if 
either of you are capable of remembering you 
ever had any manhood about you or that you 


178 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

once had a mother you will assist me in lift- 
ing my martyred angel mother to the couch.” 
Johnson placed her on the couch, while Mar- 
shall Hegmeyher sat vainly trying to com- 
prehend all that he had actually done. The 
child turned her fiery eyes full upon them 
with a look of scorn and contempt Bushy 
Johnson never forgot, fairly hissing through 
her closed teeth. “ Go, I tell you, leave 
this room! Father, take this murderer from my 
presence and you, too, are his accomplice. Ah, 
for shame that I should have to call such a man 
father! But it was not you who did this. No, 
no, my noble father no longer exists. God's 
spirit no longer dwells in that tenement of clay. 
The evil spirit has taken possession. Crazed 
with liquor you know not what you have done.” 

Turning her eyes on the liquor dealer she ex- 
claimed — “ My father is one of your slaves, sir. 
Do you hear me, vile, degraded man ? He is one 
of many thousands bound by the chains of such 
base animals as you. I know who you are. I 
can tell one of your class the minute my eyes 
rest upon them. I know how you have sought to 
ensnare him to secure his money. Ah, base, vil- 
lainous murderer! It was not enough that you 
should rob us of our wealth, but you must de- 
stroy my father’s manhood, murder my sister 
and, inch by inch, kill my saintly mother. If she 
rallies from this swoon, she is dying — slowly 
dying. I might have some mercy and pity on 
a highway robber who only takes silver and gold, 
leaving the manhood undisturbed, or the mur- 
derer, who boldly shoots a man down, confesses 



He pushed the helpless form from 


him. 


(Shadow of a Curse) — 177 




















' V «• 








































* 





























OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 179 

himself a criminal, and receives a just sentence, 
but you, sir, and all others like you, who deliber- 
ately murder fathers, mothers, and children by 
slowly torturing them to death — who maintain 
your families by pilfering and robbing homes 
and hide your iron-clad conscience under the 
protection of a blood-purchased liquor license, 
can surely not expect mercy at the hands of God 
or decent humanity. Behold, my unconscious 
mother one of your helpless victims! Go, look 
upon the new-made grave of my sister, another 
of your prey, and remember there are thou- 
sands of others like them! Go, and meditate 
upon what I have said to you, and be sure 
your sin will find you out ! * What a man soweth, 
that shall he also reap/ Go, at once, I say, and 
leave me alone with my poor mother! God for- 
bid that she should behold your cowardly faces 
when she recovers from this swoon ! I shall 
try to restore her, but it will be only temporarily. 
For you will, no doubt, strike her down again 
as usual with another of your brutal assaults — 
each time worse than the last ! ” 

They volunteered no reply. This strange 
child had awed and subdued them. They slunk 
noiselessly from the room. The little one, with 
deft hands, labored prayerfully over her mother, 
who soon rallied. Neither of them mentioned 
what had occurred. 

“ Now, mamma, dear, you are feeling better, 
are you not ? ” 

“ Yes, my child.” 

“ May I get you some light refreshments? 
You have had no lunch. It will strengthen you/ 1 


180 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ As you like, my dear.” 

Dolores disappeared, returning in a few 
minutes with a cup of tea and a dainty, tempting 
little lunch. While she was gone, the frail 
mother sent up a feeble petition to the throne of 
God for strength to endure all things and restor- 
ation of health that she might be spared to guide 
and protect this noble, impulsive child from the 
snares of an evil world until educated and de- 
veloped into mature womanhood. She was sit- 
ting up when Dolores returned and, smiling, said, 

“ Thank you, daughter. I am feeling much 
stronger now — and the lunch will be delicious, I 
am quite sure. I shall enjoy it very much. You 
and Eric are my sunshine, my joy. One should 
never feel sad with two such rare jewels. I 
shall live for my children. God will save me.” 

She seemed to relish the light repast more 
than anything she had eaten since Virginia's 
demise. They chatted pleasantly about their 
household duties as though no shadow or dis- 
cord had ever entered to dispel the light and 
harmony of this peaceful home. 

After Bushy Johnson left, Marsh Hegmeyher 
had retired to sleep off the effects of his ten days' 
debauch. Mrs. Hegmeyher and Dolores, with 
all the tender love and solicitude of a devoted 
wife and daughter, slipped on tiptoe from time 
to time silently peeping into the darkened room 
to see if he had roused or was needing anything. 
But he did not stir until late the next morning. 
His patient wife was sitting by his bedside when 
he awoke. She gently placed her hand on his 
feverish brow, smoothing the curly locks once 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 181 


as black as a raven but now streaked with sil- 
very gray, and, stooping, kissed his forehead, as 
she said sweetly, 

“ Good-morning, my dear husband. Did you 
have a nice rest? How are you feeling, this 
morning ? ” 

He stared at her in perfect amazement. Was 
she here, his own guardian angel, whom he had 
insulted, cursed and struck. Yes, he had thrown 
her unconscious body roughly upon the floor, 
leaving her to all appearances dead — had laugh- 
ingly parted with Bushy Johnson and retired to 
his room as unconcerned as if she had been a 
mere animal and slept twenty-two hours, regard- 
less of all that had occurred, awaking to find 
this faithful wife watching by his bedside, ready 
to greet him with the same unchanged love and 
devotion she had given him for more than a 
score of years. He replied, 

“ Yes, Lillian, I rested well and am feeling bet- 
ter. What time is it ? ” 

“ Ten o’clock, dear. Do you want your 
breakfast here in the room or do you prefer 
going to the dining-room ? ” 

“ I shall go down stairs, but I do not care 
for any breakfast.” 

He dressed and descended the stairs with his 
wife — and, in a few minutes, Dolores entered 
the parlor, carrying a tray with a cup of coffee, 
hot cakes, an egg, and a small piece of steak on 
it. She placed it upon a table before him, say- 
ing pleasantly, “ Now, papa mine, here is a nice, 
warm breakfast for you and I prepared it all 
myself. You must eat it every bite.” 


182 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

He looked earnestly at the child’s smiling face 
but could see no trace of the sorrow and anger 
of yesterday, only love and pity remained. He 
ate silently, volunteering no remarks. After he 
had finished and the child left the room with the 
tray, he turned to his wife saying, “ Lillian, what 
shall we do. I have been a brute — yes, more 
than that — a cur. What I told you yesterday is 
true. Bush Johnson had a mortgage on your old 
homestead here and I could not pay it off. I 
wanted more liquor and had no money to pay 
for it with. He refused to let me have it with- 
out the cash, so I let him take the home. I am 
sorry I did it. But I had to have the whiskey. 
I can no longer live without it. I am lost — eter- 
nally lost ! Not even the death of my child could 
check me; I am gone — it is too late! I shall 
fill a drunkard’s grave. How can you and the 
children be so good to me, when I am such a 
cur ? ” 

“ My darling husband, it is not too late. You 
are too weak within your feeble self, but God is 
strong and he alone is able to save you. We 
are kind to you because we love you dearer than 
our own lives. We love you because you 
have ceased to love yourself. We realize how 
little real pleasure you are having in this 
life, and what your future destiny must 
surely be if you continue thus, and we are 
trying to do what little we can to cheer your 
dark pathway, and by so doing we may, by God’s 
help, see you reclaimed yet. It is not money, 
home or even happiness we most crave and de- 
sire, but the release of your precious body and 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 183 

soul from bondage. We will rent a little flat or 
cottage, move our scant furniture into it, and 
live, joyful and happy, if you will quit drinking 
and be a man. Night after night, when you are 
in those dens of iniquity, our prayers, mingled 
with bitter tears, ascend to the throne of a merci- 
ful Redeemer in your behalf. And no true 
prayer ever reached the throne of grace and re- 
turned unanswered. You shall yet be saved. 
Will you not quit this sinful life and be a noble 
man again ? ” 

“ Ah, Lillie, it is no use talking. It is too 
late ! I am too far gone,” he replied, and left the 
room. When the noon meal was served, Dolores 
ran to the barn for her father. He returned 
with her but his features were again bleared and 
distorted, and he entered with his brain crazed 
with rum, cursing as usual. He snatched the 
cloth from the table and threw all the dishes with 
the food they contained into the back yard ; then, 
taking a hatchet, proceeded to smash all the ware 
in the china closet. Descending into the cellar, 
he broke every jar of fruit on the various shelves 
and again returned to the dining-room where he 
deliberately cut into small pieces the rich old 
chairs originally belonging to the Wauds. No 
one dare remonstrate with him. Mrs. Hegmey- 
her took her daughter and slipped cautiously 
from the dining-room fearing the liquor-de- 
mented creature might hurl the hatchet he car- 
ried at one of them. They ascended the stairs, 
entered a room, closed the door and fell on their 
knees seeking divine protection. The horrible 
creature below, after demolishing everything in 


184 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


reach, went to the barn, saddled his horse, and, 
reeling from side to £ide, rode away. 

That day Eric returned home accompanied by 
his Uncle Byron, who was now president of a 
college in the town of C — . They discussed 
financial affairs and conditions, deciding that the 
only wise course was to send Dolores away to 
school at once. True, she was only thirteen 
years old and small at that, but she had made ex- 
cellent progress in her studies in the public 
school and was capable of entering. Her moth- 
er’s health was very bad and Virginia was gone. 
There was no one to tutor her and help her 
along. The unhappy conditions now surround- 
ing the home life would prove a detriment to her 
advancement. She must have an education. It 
was all that was left her, and, if postponed 
longer, even that might be unavailable. The 
child wept bitterly, saying, 

“ No, no, Uncle Byron, I cannot, I must not 
go. I dare not leave my mother — it is not safe. 
Brother must be away. He is our only means of 
support, and I am the only one left to protect 
her. Oh, uncle, please, please, do not think me 
ungrateful. I should like to become a culti- 
vated, refined young lady but my first duty is to 
my darling mother. She is not safe one minute 
alone. You cannot understand, for you are not 
present all the time as I am. Oh, things are 
becoming dreadful, terrible. I am sure mamma 
would have died yesterday had I not been here. 
Her life is in constant danger. I shall never 
leave her, and if she is murdered I shall be too.” 

Throwing her arms about her mother’s neck, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 185 


she laid her head on that throbbing chest, sob- 
bing like her little heart would burst. Rev. By- 
ron Waud, D. D., turned his face toward the 
window, trying to conceal the grief he could 
not suppress. Eric arose and walked rapidly 
back and forth across the room. Dr. Waud 
finally broke the silence by saying, 

“ Lillian, the child is right, you dare not be 
left alone, but her education is of great impor- 
tance. There is but one proper course to take. 
You must leave this man. You have already re- 
mained with him too long, for the sake of your 
children, yourself and humanity. Leave him at 
once. He has destroyed himself, his family, his 
future happiness and yours — your health and 
the life of your firstborn, and now you and Do- 
lores are in constant danger. It must not con- 
tinue thus. Will you leave him?” 

She sat with her eyes closed, the pale arms 
and ivory-white hands tightly clasped about her 
child ; tears dropped from the pale cheeks and 
fell upon the curly head and somber black gown. 
Finally she replied, 

“ No, brother, I shall remain with him and do 
all I can to save his soul. If he fills a drunkard’s 
grave it shall be his fault and not mine. I wed- 
ded him for better or worse — to be true until 
death. I shall hold that vow sacred even though 
I die at his hand, a victim of the liquor curse. I 
shall take to the throne of God a clear conscience, 
a stainless record of a life of sacrifice and de- 
votion to my husband, who was once kind, pure, 
true and noble. Dolores must go to college and 
prepare for the environments and battles of life, 


1 86 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


so soon to demand her thoughtful attention. 
God will protect me until she returns, as he 
has always done.” 

Eric, kneeling by his mother’s chair, said, 
“ Mother, dear, this house is no longer ours. 
We must move, and I shall rent a part of Mrs. 
Princeton’s old home, and we will live there 
while sister is gone. I have an offer of a position 
here and shall accept it, so I can remain at home 
with you. Mrs. Princeton and the girls are very 
fond of you and will be kind and thoughtful. I 
shall be at home of nights, and take all my meals 
with you. Dolores, you must not grieve or fret 
while away. Mother shall be perfectly safe. I 
shall guard her carefully, and may be able to 
keep father under check if I remain at home. 
You must be ready to enter school at the begin- 
ning of the fall term in September.” 

This plan was finally decided upon. The 
Princeton house was rented and moved into. It 
was pathetic to see the sad, grave face of Lillian 
Hegmeyher vainly trying to assume a happy, 
contented expression while in the secret recesses 
of her heart lay hidden from view the shredded 
fragments of her fondest hopes, highest ambitions 
and aspirations. She was leaving, for the last 
time, the dear, old family homestead where many 
happy days had been spent. It was here she had 
been offered the hand and heart of Leonard 
Nealey. It was here she had first learned to love 
a noble youth. It was here she had waited and 
watched for his return year after year. It was 
here they had met and renewed their vows of 
constancy, when he returned from the west to 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 187 

enter the army. It was here she learned the de- 
ceit and duplicity of the man she loved. It was 
from this house she had followed the last earthly 
remains of most of her loved ones to the tomb. 
It was here she returned to find a home and 
shelter for herself and family when her own 
elegant residence had been sold from her. Alas, 
she must now part with this too! The saloon- 
keeper had secured all of their money, their home 
and their happiness. Did I say all? Ah, no! 
She still possessed what they would never own — 
character and conscience. They could torture 
and kill the body, but never the serenity of the 
soul. The children were also sad and gloomy, 
but gave no outward expression of grief ; the in- 
toxicated father taking no interest in anything. 
One day, Mrs. Hegmeyher and Dolores went to 
one of the neighboring towns by boat to do some 
shopping. While on the steamer, Bushy John- 
son appeared in the ladies’ cabin and approach- 
ing her in the presence of all the passengers said, 

“ Mrs. Hegmeyher, I am sorry I bought your 
home, and if you have the money I will let you 
have it at the same price I paid for it.” 

The old, haughty pride of Lillian Constance 
Waud returned, as she proudly held her queenly 
head erect, threw her shoulders back and casting 
a look of scorn and contempt at him that almost 
withered and froze him to the spot where he 
stood, and replied, 

“ Sir, with all your ill-gotten gain, how dare 
you address a lady? You and others of your 
class have carefully cast your treacherous drag 
nets and ensnared my husband, home, wealth 


1 88 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


and happiness. You have taken advantage of 
his weakness and robbed us of all earthly pos- 
sessions. Your comrade, Nelse Criss, took my 
other elegant home. I then moved into the old 
parental homestead. Now you have taken it. 
You know I have no money left. You managed 
to secure all of that long ago in return for the 
poison you furnished my husband. Now, sir, 
you have it all. Keep it. I do not begrude it 
to you. It cost you but little in dollars and cents, 
but when the time comes for your transportation 
to the life eternal God will require you to pay 
the tariff on your goods which will be the forfeit 
of your own soul and your part of the atonement. 
Yes, I am a poor woman, penniless, homeless. I 
do not own one foot of ground or a shingle. The 
next earthly home I expect to possess will only 
be three by six and you will not want it — if you 
do, you cannot call on me for a deed for it. For 
we shall be separated as was the rich man and 
Lazarus, and I would not be permitted to pass 
to you even with a glass of water to cool your 
parched tongue. Go, I bear you no ill will nor 
do I envy you. I pity you from the depths of 
my soul.” 

He retreated from the cabin and Mrs. Heg- 
meyher continued her conversation with the 
ladies as though there had been no interruption. 

One day in the presence of Dolores, Mrs. 
Princeton said, 

“ Mrs. Hegmeyher, don't you feel afraid to 
send Dolores away to school alone. She is so 
young. I would not trust Leona away from me, 
and she is eighteen years old, five years older 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 189 


than Dolores, but I suppose you have written 
Dr. Waud and the other members of the faculty 
to watch her carefully, have you ? ” 

Lillian Hegmeyher knew the disposition of 
this child and had she answered in the affirma- 
tive, the faculty would have probably had some- 
thing to watch, but she calmly replied, 

“ No, Mrs. Princeton, my child does not need 
watching. I can trust her. I am convinced she 
will enter college and do just the things her 
mother would desire, and nothing her mother 
disapproves of. I would not embarrass my 
child and place her under suspicion by even 
insinuating that she might require watching.” 

That remark was the greatest incentive of 
Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher’s life to do right. 
When others engaged in questionable amuse- 
ments and urged Dolores to participate, she 
would bravely respond, 

“ No, I thank you, I do not care to.” 

“ Why, Dolores, do you think it is wrong ? ” 

“ Girls, it is not a question with me whether 
it is right or wrong, but I know my mother has 
perfect confidence in me. She trusts me fully, 
and I shall do nothing that I think she might in 
the slightest degree disapprove.” 


190 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

COLLEGE DAYS AT C. OR HE IS A NOBLE BOY, BE 
HE JANITOR OR JUDGE. YES, HE IS MY KIND. 

One morning the expressman drove away 
from the door of the old Princeton home with a 
trunk checked to Miss Dolores Emerald Heg- 
meyher, care of C. College, C. — Town, Va. 
On the veranda stood a little girl dressed in a 
suit of blue, and a large beaver hat trimmed with 
a sash of Copenhagen silk, while at one side of 
her head the curls were tied with a huge bow of 
ribbon of the same shade. The dainty kid gloves 
matched the suit, and the little feet were incased 
in a pair of high-top buttoned gaiters. The child- 
ish face showed signs of agony and distress, as 
did also that of the sweet mother who clasped her 
tightly to her breast, but neither of them wept. 
Each was endeavoring to endure the pain alone 
for the sake of the other. They kissed each 
other fondly and the child ran down the steps. 

“ Oh,” she exclaimed, “ here is papa at the 
gate! I am so glad to see him and bid him 
good-bye before I leave.” And running to meet 
him, she threw her arms about his neck and 
kissed him fondly, but the heartless parent 
pushed her roughly from him and with a vile 
oath exclaimed, 

“ I wish the train would be wrecked and you 
killed on your way there. I hope to God I shall 
never see your face again alive ! ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 191 

She stood looking earnestly at him and tears 
that could no longer be suppressed filled those 
gray eyes, as she said softly, “ Good-bye, father, 
I love you dearly just the same. You know not 
what you are saying. We shall sometime meet 
again, face to face. Even though it be in heaven, 
I shall know and love you there. I shall pray 
for you while I am gone. ,, 

Turning once more to look at her mother, 
she kissed the tips of her gloved fingers and 
walked away with her brother. 

When the train came she kissed Eric whisper- 
ing, 

“ Please be careful and guard mamma from 
harm.” The bell rang, the whistle blew and the 
train sped away carrying far from home and 
those she loved this lonely child. She pressed 
her sad face against the window pane watching 
trees, fences and fields until the last familiar 
object passed from view. Then, bowing her 
head on the seat before her and burying her face 
in the dainty lace handkerchief, she gave vent 
to the grief she had so long held dormant for the 
sake of her mother. Now she was alone, no one 
to love her, no one to care if she did weep. Oh, 
how lonely it would be away from mamma! 
And how that dear mother would miss her baby 
girl! She had never been away from home 
longer than two weeks at a time before and then 
Virginia was with her. Now, she must remain 
nine long months alone, then return for a few 
weeks, only to soon go again. Yes, she must stay 
away from dear mamma most of the time for 
three or four years. Oh, how could she live 


i 9 2 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

away from her? If papa were good and kind as 
he once was it would be so different, but she must 
be brave. Mother should never know of her 
sorrow. If she ever expected to care for this 
mother and lift her from this life of sorrow and 
poverty, she would need an education. Yes, she 
would go on, study hard and make a good record 
in school. That would encourage mamma and 
make her happy. God would help her ! Some 
day, she would show to the world that even a 
child of a drunkard could dispel the shadow of 
the curse under which she was born and help to 
arouse the slumbering world. She had dried her 
eyes and sat there meditating on her future 
career, drafting resolutions within her mind, 
when a sweet-faced lady approached her seat and 
in a gentle, motherly voice said, 

“ Good-morning, dear, you seem to be travel- 
ing alone and as I, too, am alone, I thought if 
you did not object I should like to talk with you 
awhile.” 

Tears came fresh in those childish eyes as she 
looked in the earnest, thoughtful, loving face now 
bowed over hers with all the tender compassion 
of a mother’s love. 

“ Oh, thank you. Will you be seated by me? 
I shall be delighted to converse with you, I feel 
so alone — and you remind me of my own prec- 
ious mother.” 

“ Do I, dear? I am very glad. Where is that 
dear mother?” 

“ She is at home.” 

“ My child, you are weeping — why are you 
so sad ? ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 193 

“ Oh, because I am going away to college and 
shall not return to mamma for nine long months. 
I was never away from her without sister Vir- 
ginia accompanying me in my life before and 
my heart is breaking.” 

“ And why is sister not with you to-day ? ” 

“ Because Jesus called her to heaven to live 
with him last June. ,, And she laid her head on 
the stranger’s shoulder sobbing like her little 
heart would break. 

The lady placed a loving arm about the little 
form and drew her closely to her, kissing the 
forehead and caressing the curls, until the child’s 
grief had spent itself. Then they had a long 
pleasant conversation. The lady was much in- 
terested in this strange child, so different from 
other children. When lunch was called they en- 
tered the dining car together. During the meal 
the lady said, 

“ Does my little friend ever drink wine? ” 

The face of Dolores again grew suddenly 
grave. Her eyes fairly sparkled as she replied, 
“ No, indeed, never — I hate it. I would rather 
die than ever taste it. Do you? Oh, surely not 
— you are too dear, sweet and good. I know you 
do not ! ” 

The lady looked sad and depressed. She 
rightly guessed the secret of this innocent life 
of thirteen summers, and placing her hand on 
the little shoulder she looked straight into the 
clear, gray eyes. 

“ No, darling, I too hate it, and am spending 
my life trying to save the world from its bond- 
age. You are a noble girl. Keep your vow of 


i 9 4 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

total abstinence. You will have many tempta- 
tions. Always be firm as you are just now. Oh, 
if we can only educate the youths of our coun- 
try to understand the effects of liquor, our noble 
cause would soon be won. Here is a little pledge, 
would you like to sign it ? It is the pledge of the 
L. T. L. or the Loyal Temperance Legion — the 
junior order of the Woman’s Christian Temper- 
ance Union.” 

Dolores read it aloud : — 

“ God helping me, I promise 
Never to buy, sell, drink or give, 

Alcoholic liquor while I live. 

From all tobacco I'll abstain, 

And never take God's name in vain." 


“ Yes, lady, I signed the pledge in the big 
family Bible at home, when five years old, and 
shall sign this one. I would sign ten thousand 
more if it would only save men, women, boys 
and girls from the shadow of the curse ! ” 

The trip was very pleasantly spent, and when 
the train arrived at the town of C. — the lady 
handed to Dolores her card, saying, 

“ I shall always love and pray for you, dear.” 
And the child read the name of the world’s 
greatest temperance leader, Frances E. Willard, 
and she always cherished this card ’mid her 
treasures, and often through life, instead of say- 
ing, “ Mother, home and heaven ” she would 
proudly exclaim, “ God, mother and Frances E. 
Willard.” 

When Dolores stepped from the train at the 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 195 


station of C. — she was surrounded by a bevy of 
school girls. It was Saturday, a new student 
was coming and they had secured permission 
from the faculty to go to the depot to see her. 
They were expecting a grown-up young lady and 
were surprised and somewhat disappointed when 
they saw Dr. Waud shake hands with this little 
girl and place her in the college hack. The child 
was small for her age, and no one would have 
thought her more than eleven years old. She 
was shown to her room where her toilet was ar- 
ranged and then taken to the reception room by 
the matron and formally introduced to the other 
girls. That evening, the usual hazing exercises 
was abandoned and some innocent girlish pranks 
introduced instead for they had decided it was 
out of the question to do anything that might 
frighten that little child. Dolores laughed heart- 
ily at their jokes, enjoying them hugely, and 
would have been pleased at the opportunity of 
participating in their sports. After she had left 
the room one of the girls, incapable of judging 
human nature, remarked, 

“ I venture we have frightened that youngster 
half to death. It is a shame to send a child like 
that to school ! How can they expect her to keep 
up the college grades ? ” 

Louise Martinez, a tall, beautiful girl of seven- 
teen, replied, 

“For shame, Estelle, to speak so! If I am 
not greatly mistaken in my judgment, you may 
rest assured that girl is not so easily disconcerted. 
It will take more than this crowd of girls to ex- 
cite her. And as for her mental ability, I dare 


196 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

say she will lead us all a close chase for the 
laurels. As for me, I like her, and think her the 
dearest little creature in the building. I am 
glad she is one of us and shall take her under my 
wing and love her always as a dear little sister.” 

Dolores could hardly suppress the tears when 
she knelt by her bed that night to say her prayers. 
No mother’s hand rested on that curly head — 
there was no loving good-night kiss, but she dare 
not show her weakness — she would be strong 
for mamma’s sake. Her room-mate, Estelle Rey- 
mar, was an indifferent, cold, haughty, reserved 
creature, not calculated to inspire confidence or 
happy thoughts. Thus she quietly retired, medi- 
tating on home and loved ones. When the ris- 
ing bell rang the next morning she arose quickly, 
carefully made her toilet and, as her habit had 
always been, dressed herself for church. When 
the first breakfast bell pealed forth, she walked 
slowly through the long corridors to the top of 
the stairway and stood there, silently thinking of 
the loved ones on the banks of the beautiful Ohio 
River, when she suddenly felt a pair of strong 
arms thrown about her, while a voice whispered 
sweetly in her ear, 

“ Oh, here you are, my dear ! I hurried out, 
hoping to meet you alone. Do you know I took a 
fancy to you last night — I just love you, and want 
you for my own, dear, little sister. You must 
not be blue and homesick, for I am sure you 
will like it here when better acquainted. Will 
you go to church with me this morning? I 
shall be delighted to take you.” 

Dolores looked up into the beautiful, smiling 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 197 

face of Louise Martinez, the college belle, who 
stooped and kissed the little, flushed cheek. She 
placed her hand in that of her new-found friend 
and replied sweetly, “ Thank you I assure you the 
friendship and regards are reciprocated and the 
admiration mutual. I selected you last night 'mid 
all the girls as the one I should love most — the 
one I preferred as a chum or companion — the one 
most worthy of confidence. I shall like them 
all, but you are my favorite. Yes, I shall be de- 
lighted to accompany you to church." And they 
walked, arm and arm, to the dining-room to- 
gether. 

Monday morning, after chapel exercises, fol- 
lowed by short addresses by various professors, 
school was duly opened and Dolores was graded. 
Teachers and pupils were surprised to find that 
she ranked above most of the girls of seventeen 
and eighteen years of age. She and Louise were 
in the same classes, while Estelle Reymar was a 
grade below them. This child, bright, deep, 
clever, witty, together with her frank, loving, 
gentle disposition was soon acknowledged the 
general favorite of the college, adored and petted 
by teachers and students alike. Although in the 
secret recesses of her heart she had her favorites, 
she and God alone knew who they were, for she 
had been too well-trained to show her prefer- 
ence and met all with the same gentle smile in- 
herited from that beautiful southern rose, her 
mother. She applied herself well, was studious, 
and rapidly advanced in all her classes. 

A few days after the arrival of Dolores at 
school, she was coming out of the college with a 


19B THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 


group of girls when a young man dressed in blue 
overalls and jacket, with soiled cap and hands 
and face begrimed with coal soot, passed them. 
The boy glanced at her and dropped his eyes 
quickly but not before he was recognized and 
darting forward, she exclaimed, 

“ Why, Bennie Burns, how do you do ! I am 
really very glad to see you. I have not seen 
you for so long and have often thought of you. 
How long have you been here ? ” 

“ I will soon finish my last year’s course, 
Miss Hegmeyher.” 

“ Oh, really, how nice ! I suppose you have 
heard of our sad bereavement. Dear Virginia 
was taken from us last June.” 

Bennie was visibly embarrassed, as he replied, 

“ No, I really had not heard of your sorrow. 
Your sister was the most beautiful girl I have 
ever known and you have my deepest sympathy. 
I must go. Good-evening, Miss Hegmeyher.” 

The boy’s face flushed crimson as he lifted his 
soiled cap and passed on. Dolores had not no- 
ticed that she and Bennie were alone. The girls 
had left her and were waiting on the next corner. 
She walked along leisurely looking into the win- 
dows and taking more time than was really 
necessary. When she approached them, Estelle 
Reymar tossed her head contemptuously, saying, 
“ Is that one of your kind. If you are in the 
habit of speaking to people in working clothes and 
dirty faces, I don’t care to be classed with you. 
The very idea of a lady speaking to a college 
janitor. Ha! ha! What would my father Mar- 
cus Reymar, the millionaire, say if he should see 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 199 

his daughter in company with a girl who would 
recognize a janitor and even stop on the street 
and talk with him ? ” 

“ Very well, Miss Estelle Reymar, just as you 
like. I assure you, your society has never been 
sought after by me; nor have I felt myself ex- 
alted to any great degree while in your company. 
True, your father can possibly count his mil- 
lions; where poor Bentley Burns’ father cannot 
count cents. Your father’s wealth was made in 
the distillery and wholesale liquor business. 
Bennie’s father destroyed his thousands by your 
father’s abominable production, and I prefer 
Bennie’s class. Gold can neither buy or make 
character. Bennie is a noble, worthy boy, deserv- 
ing of the friendship of the best, be he janitor or 
judge. And he will sometime make a man of 
which the world will feel proud. He has brains, 
character, conscience, principal and will some- 
time have money. I know others who have 
money, but brains, character, conscience and 
principal will never be their portion. You need 
have little fear of ever being classed with me, 
either morally, spiritually, socially or intellectu- 
ally. I am but thirteen years old and you eight- 
een. Mentally, I am already classed one grade 
above you in college. By the time I am your 
present age I shall have long ago finished col- 
lege. So there is little danger of our ever being 
classed together. Bentley Burns is a sober, in- 
dustrious, ambitious boy, who will be an honor 
to the respectable world. Yes, Miss Reymar, 
I respect him and he is one of my kind. I pre- 
fer brains to bad money.” 


200 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


The other girls laughed and cheered, while 
Louise Martinez affectionately placed her arm 
around her little friend, saying, 

“ You little darling, you are brave, fearless, 
true — abhorring that which is evil, cleaving to 
that which is good, — daring to do the right, and I 
like your kind. You will always succeed while 
others fail. The professors all say that janitor 
boy is the brightest student in the college and, to- 
gether with his hard work, he carries first honors 
in all his classes. As for me, in the future, I 
shall always treat him kindly. You, my dear, 
have taught me a lesson and I love you more than 
ever. I am proud to be classed with you. Yes, 
I also belong to your kind.” 

No one will ever know the depth of sorrow 
passed through by Lillian Constance Waud Heg- 
meyher after her idolized daughter, that child 
protector left for school. Bravely she bore her 
burden, as her habit was, alone. She would not 
grieve Eric by telling him all that occurred dur- 
ing his absence. The boy was now burdened 
with the care of the home. It was impossible 
for him to always be present when his father re- 
turned and he must not know. All traces of 
trouble were carefully concealed in this loving 
heart. Insults, curses and blows were received 
from time to time. She was indeed at the mercy 
of that brutal, drunken husband. Eric would oc- 
casionally be called from home on business trips. 
During those periods of time, poor Lillian was 
often required to go for days without one morsel 
of food, that degraded man compelling her to 
cook his meals while he stood by and watched 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 201 


but if she attempted to eat a bite he beat and 
abused her unmercifully ; thus, hunger was 
added to her other pain and anguish. Nor would 
she tell Mrs. Princeton and her daughters of her 
utter helplessness and shame. No, the physical 
hunger could not be greater than the hunger of 
that famished soul. She had fallen from luxury 
and wealth into the very depths of poverty, des- 
pair and actual want, God alone understood to 
what degree, but the world and her children must 
not know. When Eric returned there was noth- 
ing amiss in his sweet mother’s demeanor — 
nothing to show that possibly not one morsel of 
food had that angelic woman devoured during 
his absence. She wrote bright, interesting, en- 
couraging letters full of hope and cheer to 
Dolores, carefully avoiding any reference of un- 
pleasant character to the homelife, dwelling on 
Eric’s noble loving deeds speaking of the kind 
and thoughtful care of Mrs. Princeton and 
daughter, and if her husband did chance to sober 
up slightly or speak a kind word it was always 
mentioned and sweetly portrayed and described; 
but, alas! Dolores understood it all too well. 
She could read between the lines and knew her 
mother was not happy. This girl loved her 
school, her classmates, her teachers, appearing 
jubilant, happy and contented. No one would 
have ever believed that she was sad or homesick ; 
but many were the nights while others were 
sleeping peacefully this child pupil, the pet of the 
college, lay in her little bed sobbing bitterly and 
earnestly petitioning God to provide for and pro- 
tect her lonely mother until her return. 


202 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher had spent but 
one year in the college of C — , when her uncle, 
Dr. Waud, resigned from the presidency. What 
must she do? Would she be compelled to go 
through the world without an education? There 
was no money left to defray her college ex- 
penses. The child did not murmur. She would 
be brave and endure this disappointment as she 
had all others. Her mother should never know 
what it meant to her. Possibly God would open 
some unseen avenue by which she could yet 
reach the goal of her ambition. One day, her 
minister, Dr. Handon, a former professor of 
the college, called at the Hegmeyher home, find- 
ing Dolores alone. The conversation naturally 
drifted to school and he remarked: 

“ I suppose you will soon be in school again, 
Dolores ? ” 

“ No, Dr. Handon, I am not going this year. ,, 

“ Why, my child, you do not expect to quit 
school at this age ? ” 

“ I must quit, Doctor, because I cannot afford 
it. Our money is all gone and I will have to 
sacrifice my education for the cause of liquor.” 

Her voice trembled and she hastily dried her 
eyes. The old professor was greatly moved and, 
arising, said, 

“ I must go, child. Do not be discouraged. 
Where there is a will there is always a way. I 
shall see you through.” 

“ No, Doctor, I cannot accept financial aid 
from you ; but, oh, if I could only work my way 
through — anything to get an education ! ” 

“ Good-evening Dolores. I shall see you again 
soon.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 203 

He kept his promise and in a few days re- 
turned with a letter from Dr. Roaring, the new 
college president, saying, 

“ Send the young lady on at once. Tell her to 
enter just as though she were paying cash ex- 
penses and remain until her four years’ course 
is completed, and after her education is finished, 
if she is ever in a financial condition to spare the 
money, she may pay it; if not, the world shall 
never know. What is a college for if not to help 
ambitious youths? I find her records last year 
were exceptionally good, and each member of the 
faculty seemed to look upon her as a model stu- 
dent, and we shall be proud to again have her 
in our midst. A hearty greeting and welcome 
home awaits her in the college.” 

“ Oh, thank you, Dr. Handon, I am so happy! 
And neither you or Dr. Roaring shall ever re- 
gret the day you decided to educate the 
drunkard’s child.” 

Year after year passed and Dolores rapidly 
advanced in all her studies. Her vacations were 
spent at home but nine months of each year she 
remained in college. The summer months did 
not buoy up her spirits or brighten her hopes; 
instead it depressed and saddened this young life. 
Each year she felt more and more the necessity 
of her presence and assistance at home. Her 
mother was gradually failing. This gentle, noble 
creature was almost crushed under the burden 
of life, and galling yoke of tyranny. Sometimes 
the child believed it wrong under the circum- 
stances to continue in school or seek an education. 
Her first duty was to that sacrificing parent. But 


204 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

all of her tender, persuasive words could not al- 
ter this mother’s wise decision and determination. 
Her daughter must finish her education and be 
prepared to meet the struggles and environments 
of life. She was developing into an interesting, 
winsome, attractive, clever woman. Dolores 
Emerald Hegmeyher was not a beautiful child 
nor did she make a beautiful woman, but her’s 
was a face no one ever forgot — a peculiarly in- 
teresting face — the kind that always makes a 
lasting impression, furnishing material for deep, 
earnest thought and fancy, long after she had 
been separated from the person thus impressed. 
Her eyes were that deep, changeable gray that so 
few understand, at times looking grave and sad, 
then sweet, gentle, mild and imploring, or spark- 
ling with joy and pleasure like rare jewels. And, 
again, when brought in contact with the things 
she believed wrong, if it interfered with her per- 
sonal rights or those of her friends, the same 
gray eyes would flash with the firmness of new- 
cut steel and freeze the opposing forces like an 
iceberg. Her blonde curls had changed to chest- 
nut brown. Her high, broad, intellectual fore- 
head was too prominent for beauty, as were also 
the strong, marked features, but her countenance 
and manner were exceedingly expressive and she 
had that emphatic way of saying and doing things 
that thoroughly impressed the minds of others. 
Had good command of language, eloquently ex- 
pressed with freedom, copiousness and winning 
persuasiveness, using just the words needed to 
convey the meaning intended, had a way of say- 
ing unacceptable things in an exceptable manner, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 205 

if necessity demanded it. She loved friends in- 
tensely and would resent, and retaliate their in- 
juries. She made many friends and few enemies 
and was amiable and universally beloved, recipro- 
cating to the fullest degree and believing no ill 
of those she loved and considered the interruption 
of true friendship the greatest and most dire 
calamity. She was determined, firm, completing 
satisfactorily the things begun and drove forward 
with a will through difficulties. She undertook 
much and carried it all out, could be fully relied 
upon, and was careful and judicious in laying 
plans and forming opinions, and rarely changed. 
She would seem to waver until her mind was 
fully made up, but after was the more unchange- 
able. She could not be driven and even her 
dearest friends could not persuade her against 
her conscience where right and justice were 
concerned. She would stand out in such cases, 
even though she stood alone and must suffer 
the consequences. She was a girl capable of 
great endurance, fitted to move forward in the 
world with determination and vigor, irrespec- 
tive of hindrances, but with all she experienced 
a high regard for things sacred and religious, 
and had an elevated, moral and aspiring cast 
of feeling and conduct for a higher and holier 
spiritual state, along with strong desires to be- 
come good and useful to the Supreme Giver 
of life and the human race. This girl was 
not only loved by her teachers and her female 
companions but a general favorite with the col- 
lege boys. One of the number, Ezell Vandergast, 
a bright, manly youth of good family, wealthy, 


206 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


and possessing fine propensities, four years her 
senior, had from the time this child entered the 
school, raved over her grace, culture, refine- 
ment, and intellectual ability. She was now 
finishing her senior year and would be seventeen, 
May 3rd, and complete her college work the 
following June. The time would soon come 
when they would all be separated. Dolores re- 
joiced that she would so soon be with her 
mother again, to share her sorrows and relieve 
her burdens. But it gave her inward pain to 
part with the dear old college and those whose 
hearts were bound to her with cords of love 
and devotion. The four years spent together 
had been extremely happy ones. The only shad- 
ows crossing her pathway were the sad recol- 
lections of a blighted home. They would soon 
bid fond farewells to each other, possibly never 
again to meet. They were from the South, 
North, East and West, and would soon return to 
their far-away homes, each filling his or her re- 
spective station in life. The class of 1895 would 
furnish to the world a variety of talented, prom- 
ising, intellectual men and women, qualified to fill 
prominent positions of trust along the lines of 
their chosen vocations. This class numbered 
youthful aspirants for physicians, surgeons, at- 
torneys, clergymen, politicians, financiers, bus- 
iness men, professors, social leaders, society 
butterflies and true, loyal mother-hearted, home- 
loving girls. Yes, they would help to shape and 
model the future career of their country. They 
had met, exchanged thoughts and confidences, 
loved as one vast family bound together with 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 207 

ties of brotherly and sisterly unity. Now the 
parting hour had come to bid them all adieu. 

Tears sparkled in the eyes of Dolores Emer- 
ald Hegmeyher as she stood the last night of 
the commencement on the old chapel platform 
where she would never stand again reading an 
original poem. At the close of school, teachers 
and pupils wept without disguise or embarrass- 
ment, as her clear, oratorical voice so vividly 
portrayed with love and pathos the anguish and 
inner thoughts of each member of the beloved 
school, whose ideas, aims, ambitions, pleas- 
ures, triumphs, sorrows, trials and disappoint- 
ments had long been one. This poem took the 
contest medal. All were pleased and perfectly 
satisfied with the decision. Louise Martinez 
graded second and, clasping her friend fondly to 
her heart, exclaimed, 

“ Oh, my darling sister chum, I am so happy— 
so perfectly delighted that you won the medal ! 
It was yours, rightly yours; no one else could 
have done so beautifully ! ” 

The exercises were over ; the diplomas 
awarded, school life ended and a new life begun. 
Trains moved out from the old station at C. — , 
in various directions, loaded with sparkling 
vivacious youths. Hats saluted and handker- 
chiefs waved, fond good-byes were exchanged, 
and the little old college town was again left 
lone and desolate. 


208 l THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

FELLED BY A FATHER'S HAND. 

Late one evening in the month of June, at a 
lonely little station in West Virginia, a young 
lady, becomingly attired, alighted from the west- 
bound express and was met by a handsome boy 
of perhaps twenty-five years. He had black 
hair, sad, blue eyes and wore clothing of good 
material, but soiled, showing signs of long and 
constant wear. He kissed the girl fondly. Both 
were weeping — she for joy and delight that she 
was again home to stay — he for sorrow. How 
could he take this little sister home? Things 
had changed greatly in the last nine months. 

“ Oh, brother, I am so glad to be home once 
more to remain ! ” 

“ And we, sister, are more than delighted to 
have you with us. We shall walk up to the 
house. It is not far. We are not residing where 
we were when you left last fall.” 

“ Oh, really! Neither you or mother have 
mentioned it to me in your letters. When, where 
and why did you move? ” 

They had left the depot and were walking 
along the road together. He drew her arm into 
his, saying fondly: 

“ Sister, we did not write for we knew it 
would only grieve you, and the conditions could 
not be improved by your knowing; but now 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 209 

that you are with us again, I think it best that 
you should know, before seeing mother. Our 
life, during the nine past months, has been 
very bitter. If perdition can be worse than the 
present condition of our once happy home, it 
is certainly a place to dread and shun. Father 
has continually grown worse. His miserable 
brain never has one lucid moment. He drinks, 
drinks, drinks enough to kill a thousand men. 
Had he not possessed a remarkable constitution, 
a drunkard’s grave would have long ago claimed 
its own. Alas! his body still lives containing 
only the corpse of the soul, heart, brain prin- 
ciple and noble manhood once occupying that 
temple of God’s spirit. He seldom works — 
never speaks a kind word in the home — beats 
and abuses mother in my absence, and curses 
me when I am present. Only yesterday, he 
threw a sharp hatchet at me and, had I not 
dodged, I would have been instantly killed. It 
grazed my face, leaving this flesh wound you see 
on my cheek. One day, while I was gone, he 
moved mother from the home of Mrs. Prince- 
ton into a miserable little board hovel, where we 
now live. I learned that during my absence 
he never permitted her to swallow one morsel of 
food, and I was compelled to give up my good 
position that I might remain at home and guard 
mother. I try to earn enough to support us by 
working at odd jobs when he is away. He is 
thousands of dollars in debt. Every article in 
the home worth anything has been sold at public 
auction — even the beautiful old family portraits. 
I managed to get mother’s, Virginia’s and a few 


2io THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


others, but there is little left of the old life, dear 
sister — little we used to love/' 

She stopped and clasped both of her broth- 
er’s hands in hers. Tears were falling fast on 
her burning cheeks, as she said, in a sweet, loving 
tone, 

“ No, brother dear, there is but little of the 
old life left. But, thank God, the part I most 
love still remains. Mother, you and baby Monica 
are more to me than all the world besides. I 
have prayed God to protect you until my return. 
My prayers have been answered. I am now a 
woman, ready to go hand in hand with you into 
the battles of life. We must, we can, we will 
lift the shadow of the curse from our home and 
the proud old family name! Eric, have you 
ever thought of my two names and their signifi- 
cance ? ” 

“ No, sister, I really have not.” 

“ Virginia gave me the name of Dolores, which 
means sorrowful and her sweet, gentle life wilted 
and decayed, under the burden of the sorrow 
that has bowed us to the dust, and she went to 
live with God. You, my brother, added the 
name Emerald, my birthstone which means 
successful, to emerge, and we shall rise together 
from this life of disgrace and shame and live 
noble, beautiful lives, endowed with power and 
influence. It may not be soon, brother, but it 
will surely come. The mills of the Gods grind 
slowly but sure.” 

“ Oh Emerald, I am so glad you have re- 
turned. You are such a comfort and give a man 
fresh courage. Here we are home at last. Be 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 21 1 


cheerful and pretend not to notice the change 
for mother’s sake.” 

The sad face of the angelic woman standing 
in the door was greatly altered, showing plainly 
traces of untold agony, but the same, sweet smile 
remained. The same gentle voice bid her child 
welcome home. Dolores clasped her mother in 
her strong, loving arms, and kissed the pale lips 
again and again. She then skipped through the 
house, singing gayly, chattering, laughing, and 
telling anecdotes, until a new, happy expression 
came into the faces of Eric and his mother. 
They forgot their humble surroundings and were 
for the time as happy as if living in a palace. It 
was fortunate for all that Marshall Hegmeyher 
was absent on this, the night of his daughter’s 
return. After prayer, and all had retired, 
Dolores lay awake for hours thinking, planning. 

Yes, brother was right. Home, with all its 
beauty, was gone. Not one vestige of the old 
beloved life remained. This humble cottage was 
but little better than the pitiable old hovel where 
Bennie Burns had once lived. The food on the 
table was scant, showing plainly that each penny 
had to be counted before purchasing the neces- 
sities of life. How bare and cheerless the rooms 
looked! And her dear, beautiful mother — to 
think she had come to this — she who would have 
given grace and dignity to the palace of a king! 
Did God require such sacrifice of women? 
Surely not. No, never ! The shadow must be 
lifted, and mother, that queen of earth’s angelic 
souls, be happy again. It must not continue thus. 
“ She shall be lifted from this life of shame and 


2i2 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


anguish. I shall live from now henceforth for 
her, and make her happy/’ 

The next morning, Dolores quietly slipped into 
the kitchen without disturbing any one else and 
proceeded to prepare the morning meal. When 
everything was about ready to be served she ran 
in and called gently, 

“ Mamma, dear, are you about ready to get 
up. I have breakfast ready.” 

“ Yes, my blessed child, I shall get right up.” 

“ Come, brother, breakfast waits.” 

“ All right, in three minutes, little sister.” 

Dolores hurried back to the kitchen and has- 
tily carried the smoking food to the dining-room 
where she had already placed a fresh bunch 
of fragrant sweet pease. She had baked nice, 
warm biscuits and, kneeling by the stove, was 
lifting the tempting little morsels of genuine 
southern delicacies from the oven, when she 
heard the side door of the kitchen open and some 
one entered. Looking up, she beheld her father, 
standing by her side with a heavy club drawn 
over her head. The girl was too much fright- 
ened to scream, and threw her little white arm 
up just in time to protect her head. For the blow 
descended heavily on the arm, leaving it deeply 
lacerated and the bone broken. She fell un- 
conscious on the floor. The enraged man dealt 
several more of his strokes on that defenseless 
prostrate body then, grasping the slender throat 
with a death-like clutch, he dragged the bleeding 
form from the kitchen to her mother’s room. 
Eric heard the commotion and ran to the door 
just in time to hear the rum-maniac exclaim 
with an oath! 



Looking up, she beheld her father, standing be her side 
with a heavy club over her head. 


(Shadow of a Curse) — 212 






OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 213 

“ Here she is the kid just home from college. 
You are all so proud of her. She looks like 
something to be proud of, now, don’t she? I 
have fixed her all right. This is the reception 
I have planned for her, long ago, but I got a 
better chance at her than I even hoped for. She 
is dead all right. And I killed her. Done a 
good job of it too.” 

Releasing his grasp the body fell heavily upon 
the floor and turning he carelessly left the room. 

Eric tenderly lifted his sister to the bed and 
quickly opened her clothing. Her throat was 
black and the print of the thumb on one side 
of her neck and four fingers on the other were 
plainly visible. Her garments were stained with 
blood. The pale-faced mother ran to the bed 
and, in an agonizing voice, exclaimed, 

u My child ! my baby girl ! Oh, God, is she 
dead ! Murdered by her own father’s hand ! ” 

The pallid face of the woman was appalling. 
The eyes were dry and tearless. Eric carefully 
examined the heart of his sister; finally arising 
he replied, 

“ Yes, mother, I fear it is true. Our darling 
returned to us only to be taken away again, for- 
ever. To-day is ours, to-morrow is not. Yester- 
day, she was ours. To-day she is with God and 
Virginia. Her heart beats not. I find no sign of 
life.” 

“ Oh, God ! ” shrieked the mother, “ Give me 
my child, my precious baby girl, back again! 
Save her! Oh, God, have mercy and spare the 
life of my darling ! ” 

She pressed her ear over the heart and lis- 


214 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


tened. Suddenly a look of hope flashed in those 
stony eyes, as she softly whispered, 

“ She lives ! She lives ! Thank God, she lives ! 
I detect life. Quick, my son, for the doctor/’ 

Eric instantly departed and returned in less 
than five minutes with a physician. But the 
faithful mother had already bathed her daugh- 
ter’s face, bandaged the wounds and partly 
staunched the blood. The physician carefully 
examined the patient, labored long and earnestly, 
and finally succeeded in restoring respiration. 
The fractured bones were set and stitches taken 
in the deep lacerations, but consciousness could 
not be restored. 

Marshall Hegmeyher was arrested. The feel- 
ing against him ran very strong in the community. 
He seemed quite penitent, wept bitterly, promised 
to quit drinking and reform if they would only 
give him one more chance. The family was again 
moved with compassion, and he was released 
under bond for four months’ good behavior. 

Returning home, he slept oft the effects of the 
liquor and was once more a sober man. His 
nerves were in a deplorable condition, but the 
physician gave him something to quiet them. He 
sat around ashamed, dejected. Now that his 
brain was again partially clear he realized to what 
depth he and his once proud, respectable family 
had fallen. How they had degenerated! For 
hours he would watch the pathetic form of his 
unconscious, delirious daughter, as she writhed 
and groaned in pain, distress and agony, mumb- 
ling and talking continuously about school, her 
father, the liquor curse and the doom of a drunk- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 215 

arcTs child. Then again she would imagine she 
saw Jesus coming, and would smile, saying, 

“ Glorious Redeemer, art thou here at last to 
take me home. Does Virginia know I am com- 
ing? Will you not bring mamma and Eric too. I 
am afraid to leave them alone, and Jesus thy 
blood was shed for father’s soul also, is there no 
way to save him? Oh, if he could only be re- 
deemed! Jesus, he was once good and kind and 
never cruel until he became a slave to the curse. 
Is there no way to lift it — to break the chains of 
bondage? I forgive him, Jesus. It was not my 
father who did the deed. No, no, it was the 
liquor that crazed his brain ! ” 

Then in her delirium she would sweetly sing: 


“ There is not a friend like the lowly Jesus, 
No, not one ! No, not one ! 

None who can heal all our soul's diseases 
No, not one ! No, not one ! 


Jesus, knows all about our struggles, 

He will guide ’till the day is done. 

There is not a friend like the lowly Jesus— 
No, not one ! No, not one ! ” 


For weeks this soul hung on the balanced 
thread between life and death, Sometimes it 
seemed as though the avenging angel was indeed 
hovering over the little tenement of clay, ready to 
snap the tiny, silver cord of life and transport the 
spirit to eternal glory. Again, the human or ma- 
terial forces predominated. Faithfully the pa- 
tient, heart-broken mother kept vigilant, prayer- 


21 6 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


ful watch over the suffering child. Nor would 
she leave her for one moment with any one but 
Eric. Weeks passed ’ere this loving parent was 
rewarded with a look of recognition from those 
dilated eyes. Now, that the father was conduct- 
ing himself properly, Eric had again resumed 
work. But Marshall Hegmeyher could not be 
induced to take interest in anything. It seemed 
that his shrewd business capacities had been en- 
tirely demolished with his wealth and manhood. 
Gradually Dolores showed signs of improvement. 
Slowly the wounds knitted together. The fever 
was gone. The girl gained strength, but it was 
three months ’ere she could go out of the house, 
and would possibly never be a strong woman 
again. The abuse received at the hands of her 
father had left her with a broken-down consti- 
tution and internal injuries from which she must 
suffer through life and perhaps fill a premature 
grave. 

Eric secured a good position in a city about 
two hundred miles from home. His father did 
no work and dragged himself about in a listless, 
careless manner but evinced no tendency to re- 
turn to the old life, so the boy felt safe in accept- 
ing the offer which would be quite remunerative, 
thus enabling him to provide better for his mother 
and sister. The old, degraded associates of 
Marshall Hegmeyher formerly infesting his home 
had gradually dropped off one at a time until the 
family were at last free of their undesirable 
presence. One day his wife and daughter were 
sitting near the window sewing. A thin curtain 
concealed them from the outside view. Suddenly 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 217 

they heard voices talking in subdued tones and 
recognized that of Marshall Hegmeyher. Cauti- 
ously peeping out they saw him and Frank 
Durgan, one of the old gang, seated beneath the 
window. He seemed to be urging Hegmeyher to 
do something against his will. 

“ Oh, come on,” he said, “ Are you a coward? 
Be a sport ! ” 

“ No, Frank not to-day, but to-morrow my 
four months will be up. My bonds run out, 
and I shall be with you. Yes to-morrow morning 
at ten o’clock I shall be free to do as I please 
again, and we will have a time. I have managed 
to save a little on the side and mean to set them 
up to the gang. We can celebrate for all we 
have missed druing the four months. I was a 
blame numbskull to knock that kid down the 
way I did. I might have known I would get 
pinched, but she is well again now, and I will 
have one more good blow-out, anyhow, before I 
quit the country.” 

“ What, you don’t think of leaving your old 
pals, do you, Marsh ? ” 

“ Yes, I do, but you keep mum about it. Not 
one word, do you hear?” 

“ Sure Mike, I hear. Did you ever know of 
me giving a good old bully like you away ? ” 

“ No, I never did. Now see here, Frank. You 
had better skin out and not let my folks see you 
around for I don’t want them to get an inkling 
until it is all over. They think I am a little tin 
God now. Ha, ha, that is a joke! ” 

“ But, say, Marsh, — your folks are the finest 
people I ever saw. How did you ever happen to 


218 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


get such a woman? Do you know that woman 
don’t act like she belongs on earth. She is more 
like an angel than any one I have ever seen.” 

“ Huh, how do you know ? Did you ever see 
an angel ? ” 

“ No, and I never expect to, but I imagine 
if I did it would look just about like your wife. 
Don’t she ever get mad ? ” 

“ No, she never did.” 

“ Does she ever speak cross to you ? ” 

“ No, she never has.” 

“ Does she always smile the way she did the 
day I brought you home full of booze ? ” 

“Yes, always just the same.” 

“ Then she is an angel, all right, and that’s 
sure. And such a woman would reform the 
devil himself. You must be pretty tough, Marsh, 
to act the way you do with such a wife.” 

“ Well, you see, Frank, I used to be a fine 
fellow — rich, good-looking and a swell dude. 
Everybody thought I was just about right. She 
loved and married me. I did not get tough for 
several years after we were wed but I took my 
drink occasionally and it finally got the better 
of me, and at last when I did take a tumble it was 
a big one. She has been too good to me and so 
have the kids. Never one cross word. I guess 
they used to think they could reform me. Now, 
they know I am about all in and they think it 
will be hot enough for me after awhile, so they 
will try to keep me as cool as possible until I go 
below. But, do you know I am tired of the en- 
tire bunch and want a woman like me, who can 
drink, curse and fight as hard as I can. I have 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 219 


one in my mind and expect to skidoo with her. 
Now don’t forget — mum is the word, old boy.” 

“ Sure ! Good-bye ; I will watch for you to- 
morrow.” 

“ Down by the river ? ” 

“ Yes. So long!” 


CHAPTER XXX. 

DRIVEN FROM HOME. 

The man walked away and Marshall Hegmey- 
her started off through the orchard. 

“ Oh, mother,” exclaimed Dolores, “ isn’t this 
dreadful? Will our troubles never cease? Just 
think, he is deliberately planning to go away with 
some low woman. Mother if he drinks again to- 
morrow he will surely come home and do some 
dreadful deed ’ere he departs. We must go 
away in the morning. He may murder both of 
us. Please, mamma dear, will you not go? You 
have already remained with him too long.” 

“ No, daughter, God will protect us as he has 
in the past. I shall never leave your father. 
Our marriage vow binds us until death. If he 
leaves me, the bonds will be burst asunder by him 
not me, and I shall remain blameless in the 
sight of God.” 

“ Very well, mother ; if it comes to the worst, 
we shall die together.” 

When supper was prepared that evening, Do- 
lores went to call her father but could not find 


220 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


him. The temptation had been too great. The 
ravenous, craving appetite could not be appeased 
and he had followed the tempter. Vainly that 
mother and daughter tried to talk on various 
subjects that evening, but all topics of conver- 
sation seemed alike dull and uninteresting. Their 
minds were pondering a subject they dare not 
discuss. Dolores read a chapter in the Bible and 
her sad mother sent up a pathetic appeal to the 
throne of divine mercy for protection, grace and 
guidance sufficient for their hour of trial. 

They had just retired when uneven steps ap- 
proached the door, and Marsh Hegmeyher stum- 
bled into the house cursing God and humanity. 
He lit a light and entered the room where his wife 
lay in a bed and Dolores on a cot nearby. Plac- 
ing the lamp on the stand he drew from his 
pocket a razor and revolver, pointing the latter at 
his daughter’s temple, he exclaimed with a blood- 
curdling oath, 

“ Now keep your mouth shut, remember 
if either of you move or speak a word to- 
night I shall shoot you both and then cut your 
throats from ear to ear with this razor. Don’t 
you dare try to escape or call for help if you hope 
to live. I have some dirty work to do to-night, 
and may as well proceed with it. Let me see 
where shall I begin first. I guess I had better 
leave this room until the last and locking the door 
behind him he went from room to room demol- 
ishing everything in view. Entering the little un- 
pretentious parlor where the one last old carpet 
remained he slashed it into shreds then carrying 
all unused feather beds, mattresses, pillows, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 221 


blankets and comforts into the same room he 
tore and cut them into pieces throwing them upon 
the floor, as did he also all linen and wearing 
apparel he could find. Proceeding to the kitchen 
pantry and cellar, he carried fruit, vegetables, 
groceries, flour and etc., into the parlor empty- 
ing them onto the floor with the feathers. Then 
taking an ax he crushed into atoms every chair, 
table, picture, piece of bric-a-brac, china, glass, 
crockery, etc., in the house. Taking the large old 
family Bible in which the marriages, births, and 
deaths of the Waud and Hegmeyher ancestors 
were recorded, he built a fire in the cook stove 
and proceeded to tear the leaves out, one book at 
a time, repeating slowly “ Genesis means cre- 

ation. In six days God made heaven and earth 
and sea and all that in them is and rested on the 
seventh. Therefore he blessed the Sabbath day 
and hallowed it.” And this is the way I will 
hallow his holy name.” And burning Genesis he 
proceeded with each book in rapid succession un- 
tile he had destroyed the entire Bible. After 
completing his work of destruction, he returned to 
the sleeping apartments where his helpless wife 
and daughter lay with their eyes closed silently 
submitting their lives to the mercy of one who 
alone would be able to deliver them. He walked 
on tiptoe as though not wishing to disturb or 
arouse them from their slumber. First he 
went to the cot of Dolores and drew the covers 
down to make sure she was asleep; then to 
the bed of his wife. Neither of them stirred. 
In a hoarse, fiendish whisper he repeated to 
himself. 


222 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“ Yes, they are both sleeping soundly, and 
this is a good time to finish the work. I 
have brought them to this life and they see 
no pleasure anyhow. They will be better off 
dead. It would be a shame to let one of them 
remain alone, and I will just put them both 
out together. That poor little devil over there 
in the cot is a spunky youngster but she has 
always been good when she had a fair show, 
and just leave it to her to always be on the 
right side of everything. She would not be 
afraid to look straight into the very barrel of 
this thing and never flinch. Yes she is made 
of good stuff if it is a little fiery, but Lill 
here is too good for me that is straight, and 
so far as that goes she is most too good for 
any man I ever saw. Never one cross word 
does she speak. Heaven is the right place for 
such as her, and I guess I will send her and 
the kid up there pretty soon. Angels have no 
business on earth anyhow. But, gee, if things 
should happen to get wrong up there the kid 
would be the very one to help her God that 
she thinks so much of straighten them all out. 
For she comes nearer seeing into the very bot- 
tom of things and knowing just what a fellow 
thinks than any one I have ever known. Well, 
here it goes! Which do you suppose I had 
better use, the gun or the razor. I guess I 
had better take the gun first, and then the 
razor to make a sure job of it. That kid is 
like a cat: she has nine lives anyhow, or she 
would have died that other time. I guess I 
had better take her first or she might waken 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 223 

up and claw my eyes out. Here she goes, 
click, click.” 

He pointed the revolver at the girl's temple 
and pulled the trigger but it did not dis- 
charge. He examined it carefully cursing his 
luck. What was the matter with those cart- 
ridges? He removed them, looked them over 
carefully and replaced them. Taking a bottle 
from his pocket, he lifted it to his lips and 
drained the last drop of a quart of whiskey. 

“ Well, I guess that will help me out. It 
takes a lot of nerve to do a thing like this, but 
I have got to get rid of them that is all there 
is about it.” 

A deep groan shook his frame and he again 
pointed the revolver at Dolores when a heavy 
sound was heard on the outside of the house 
like something falling. He started, dropped 
the revolver to his side with an oath. 

“What's that? Is it some one after me?” 
Slipping to the table he extinguished the light, 
whispering, “ Some one must be watching this 
house. I shall wait until the after part of the 
night. They will get tired and leave after 
awhile ! ” And, placing the weapons under his 
pillow, he lay down on the bed with all his 
clothing on by the side of the pale, horror- 
stricken wife. No one moved. Not a sound 
was heard and in less than five minutes he was 
snoring loudly in a drunken stupor. The little 
old clock on the shelf in their chamber struck 
twelve, one, two, three, four, five and no one 
had stirred. The sun was peeping over the 
eastern hills, were they all asleep? Ah, no, 


224 THE shadow of a curse, 

slumber was far from the eyes of the silent 
forms of the two women who had kept care- 
ful vigilance throughout the night. No word 
had been spoken. Not a muscle had moved. 
The only sound to be heard was the loud 
breathing of the wretched inebriate. When the 
clock struck six the girl clad in her long, white 
night robe arose noiselessly from the cot and 
approached the bed. Her mother raised a 
warning finger but she heeded it not. Her 
lips were tightly set, and the earnest eyes fairly 
glowed with determination. Cautiously she 
slipped a little white hand under her father's 
pillow. He groaned loudly and turned over 
but did not awake. She did not move again 
for several minutes, and then quickly pulled 
the revolver and razor from their place of con- 
cealment, and hastily left the room motioning 
her mother to follow. They dressed quickly 
and took a survey of all that had occurred dur- 
ing the night. Going out into the yard they 
stopped suddenly for there before them lay the 
leaves of the Holy Bible, burned but unbroken. 
They had been drawn by the draft through the 
stove and had flown and fallen into the yard. 
The Scripture could be plainly read in the 
ashes. They heard Marsh Hegmeyher exclaim 
with an oath, 

“ Good gracious, here it is daylight ! I 
never intended this! Now, I have lost another 
good opportunity to do my work by sleeping 
here like a fool. Where have they gone? I 
will get them yet." 

Suddenly he discovered the loss of his wea- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 225 

pons. A volley of oaths followed. Hastening 
through the house, he came to the back door 
and saw them standing in the yard. With an 
oath, he shrieked out, 

“ Who was the thief that stole my gun and 
knife? ” 

Dolores, proudly stepping between him and 
her mother, replied, 

“ It was I, father — behold the thief ! ” 

He started toward her, when she raised a 
small, white hand clasping a revolver and with 
a warning gesture, exclaimed, 

“ Don’t you dare touch either mother or I. 
Do you hear me ? ” 

“ What did you do with that gun ? ” 

“ I have it right here in my hand, sir, and if 
necessary shall use it to defend my mother.” 

“ Ah, come, kid, don’t be silly, — won’t you 
give it back to your old pop, if I promise to not 
hurt you ? ” 

“ No, sir, I certainly shall not. I have 
never willfully disobeyed you in my life before, 
father, but your promise and words are like 
your manhood very weak and not to be relied 
upon. Everything in this little home is gone 
this morning. Not one bite of food remains, 
and had not a Supreme Power intereceded in 
our behalf last night, mother and I would have 
both been murdered by your hand. We were 
awake last night and heard all you said and 
did. You surely did not think we were sleep- 
ing. It was God who protected us. His mighty 
hand prevented that cartridge from exploding. 
He caused you to sleep against your own will. 


226 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


God did not wish you to become a murderer. 
He loves you more than you care for yourself. 
Look at his blessed words here. See how it 
passed through the fire and returned in perfect 
print so as to be easily read. And, believe me, 
father, these same ashes will howl against you 
in the day of judgment. Beware, you have 
gone too far ! ” 

He stood with his head down as though glued 
to the spot, eyeing them with a fiendish expres- 
sion. At last, he replied, 

“ You are pretty brave all right, kid, but you 
can’t bluff me. I will give you one more 
chance. I guess it would be better to not kill 
you if I can get rid of you without it. Now 
I will give both you and your mother fifteen 
minutes to get out of this and if I ever see 
either of your faces again — remember, corpse 
will be your name, for I shall kill you. I am 
going away with some one that can tank as 
much rum as I. Now you had better be mov- 
ing. Five minutes of your time is already up.” 

Tears came into the eyes of Dolores as she 
replied, “ Yes, father, we shall go. We have 
no place here to stay, and no one to remain with. 
But remember, father, I do not fear you. I 
shall always care for mother and try in my 
feeble way to do what you have neglected. I 
shall some time clear your once fair name of 
insolvency, and wherever you may roam re- 
member, your baby girl is praying for you. 
Come, darling mother, it is all we can do. You 
have done your part — we must go.” 

The sweet, pale face of Lillian Constance 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 227 


Waud Hegmeyher gave one last, appealing look 
at the bloated, degraded creature standing be- 
fore her, and all of the agony of that poor soul 
seemed to well up in her heart, and shine from 
the depths of those beautiful eyes as she said, 
“Farewell, farewell, my husband! My own 
beloved! Farewell, forever! You, whom I 
have loved more than my own life and soul — yes, 
more than the whole world; you for whom I 
gave up parents, home, wealth, influence, honor, 
happiness — all that woman holds dear — in re- 
turn, you have cursed, beaten and starved me. 
Now you drive me from your presence. But 
I thank God no harsh word has ever passed my 
lips in return. No unkind deed or look, and I 
would willingly die this morning if it would save 
your soul. Alas, you must answer for your own 
sins ! We must each stand before the same just 
judge and account for the deeds done in the 
body. The blood of Jesus atones for all sin, but 
we must either accept or reject the atonement. 
No one is accountable for another only inas- 
much as their influence is responsible. Thank 
God, I shall ascend to the presence of the eternal 
judge with a clear conscience void of offense 
before God and man. I shall love and pray for 
you forever, and keep my vow until death. God 
save your soul. Farewell beloved ! Farewell ! 99 
She took her daughter’s arm and they walked 
slowly away together. Some distance from the 
house they turned to take one more look and 
saw Marshall Hegmeyher mount his horse and 
ride away in the opposite direction. Where 
should they go? There they stood alone — 


228 THE SHADOW OF. A CURSE, 


hungry, homeless, penniless. Neither of them 
had eaten anything since the day before. Aim- 
lessly they sauntered along the road. Not a 
word was spoken until they had gone some 
distance, and were nearing a farm house, then 
Dolores, lifting the little hand of that patient 
mother to her lips, kissed it fondly and said, 

“ Dearest mother, I think it best for us to go 
to the home of our good friend Mrs. Southwick 
until we can get a telegram from Eric. We have 
neither of us had breakfast, and not one cent 
do we possess with which to purchase anything 
to eat. I found my old purse on the floor in the 
parlor and picked it up but the change had all 
been taken — not a penny remains. I might do 
without food for a few meals myself but you, 
dear mother, are weak and need nourishment 
and it will be a day or two before we hear from 
brother.” 

“ Oh, my child, has it come to this ? Must we 
even beg for food and lodging? I have been 
hungry before when he would not allow me to 
eat, and I can endure it now. Oh, God is it 
true? Have I at last become a beggar? I can 
never, no never, do that ! ” 

And she fell in an unconscious condition in 
the arms of her daughter. The girl knew it was 
another attack of heart failure. She had no 
stimulant, not even water. She could not leave 
her mother alone and go for help. Something 
might harm her while she was gone. She must 
try to carry that dear mother to the farm house 
now in view. Her mother was not very heavy 
and Dolores lifted the beloved form and carried 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 229 

it a few steps at a time until she finally reached 
the gate. Mrs. Southwick and daughter, Opie, 
saw them approaching and ran to her assistance. 
They gently placed Mrs. Hegmeyher on a couch 
and worked faithfully until she regained con- 
sciousness. Dolores had briefly explained to 
their friends on entering that circumstances had 
become desperate and unendurable at home, and 
they had decided to move to K — ville where Eric 
was employed and could they secure board and 
room with them for two or three days until they 
were ready to go. Noble Mrs. Southwick knew 
much of Marsh Hegmeyher’s conduct and rightly 
suspected the correct nature of affairs ; extending 
a cordial welcome to them, she hastened off to 
prepare some breakfast. When the exhausted 
woman rallied from the swoon, she seemed 
bewildered. Dolores, kneeling by her side whis- 
pered, 

“ Please, mother dear, do not worry we are 
safe with Mrs. Southwick, and I have arranged 
for lodging. Remember we are boarders and 
friends — not beggars. Be brave, mother, and get 
well for our sake. Leave the rest to me. I shall 
make all arrangements.” 

Good Mrs. Southwick entered with a smoking 
tray. The mother and daughter ate, and were 
refreshed and strengthened. Dolores kissed the 
pale forehead and said, “ now, mother, if you do 
not mind I shall leave you for a short time in the 
care of our friends, Mrs. Southwick and Opie, 
and run down to the telegraph office. The girl 
had not even the price of a telegram and sent the 
following, collect : 


230 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 


“ Eric Cassil Hegmeyher, K — ville, W. Va., 

Come quickly, important, bring money ; take us 
with you. 

(Signed) 

Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE HAPPY FAMILY IN THE COTTAGE AT 
K — VILLE. 

In the town of K — ville, a pretty little new 
cottage with six rooms had just been completed 
on the brow of the hill on the edge of an old 
orchard, where lots had been laid out for a new 
addition to the city. The location was a desirable 
one of marvelous beauty overlooking the entire 
town and Ohio River Valley, giving a view of 
five miles south and four miles north, along the 
placid, serpentine river. A young man had built 
it by the aid of the building and loan. The neigh- 
bors surmised it was to be the cozy home of a 
bride and groom, as only new furniture had ar- 
rived, but instead he brought his mother and sis- 
ter to live with him. The mother was a lady of 
possibly sixty years. If a widow, her husband 
had evidently been dead several years, as she was 
not gowned in mourning. However, deep sorrow 
continually made itself visible through those ex- 
pressive gray eyes, defeating the efforts of the 
gentle, sweet, smiling face to hide the agonies of 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 231 

a burdened soul from a friendless world. The 
girl, less than twenty, had her mother’s eyes and 
the same smiling face, but not her beauty. 
Her features were more prominent and strongly 
marked, while her manner, carriage and walk 
gave her a decidedly determined cast of character. 
That they were poor was also evident, but no 
common ordinary people. There was that pe- 
culiar characteristic about them that always dis- 
tinguishes a born and bred gentleman or lady 
from the coarse, uncultured, avaricious, gain- 
seeking, worldly-minded, unprincipaled man or 
woman. 

Who were they and where from ? The inquis- 
itive neighbors learned that the young man, Eric 
Hegmeyher, was employed by the Baltimore & 
Ohio Railroad Company and that he had only 
been there a few weeks but had decided to make 
K — ville his future home, bringing the family to 
reside with him. Dolores secured a position as 
collector and night-operator for the Belle Tele- 
phone Company. She and her brother provided 
comfortably for their mother and, inasmuch as it 
was possible under existing circumstances, this 
humble, little family was happy and contented. 
They possessed no wealth, luxury or elegance 
such as they had once known — only a plainly- 
furnished little cottage with a serene, sweet-faced 
mother beaming with love and pride on her dar- 
ling children. Could Lillian Waud Hegmeyher 
be happy after enduring more genuine sorrow 
than woman had ever before known? Yes, her 
greatest pleasure had always been found in doing 
for others. That same, unchanged comfort and 


232 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

joy still remained hers until eternity. Nor did 
she pine and weep over the past. Her life motto 
was, “ In honor preferring one another.” Had 
she any right to cast a shadow over the lives with 
whom she came in contact, simply because sinful 
indulgence had darkened many years of her 
own life and usefulness, eclipsing the sunshine, 
obstructing the pathway, causing the most valued 
flowers of her family to dwindle, wilt and one of 
them die, while another, the pride of the garden, 
her husband, had faded beyond recall? No! No! 
Each life must sometime have trials of their 
own; then why should she burden them with 
hers? She would show to the world only the 
bright side of life — keep the silver lining turned 
towards humanity, while the dark clouds were 
carefully driven back from view by sweet smiles, 
gentle words, friendly handclasps and an over- 
flowing heart of love and sympathy. No word 
was ever spoken in this home to recall the past ; 
only at the sacred family altar each night divine 
protection was evoked on the wandering, way- 
ward one. Kindness, love, sacrifice, physical 
labor and a desire to serve each other restored, 
strengthened and knitted together the fond ties 
binding the hearts of the remainder of this family 
and they lovingly gathered around the fireside in 
the little home while mother played on the old 
melodian the familiar hymns and all sang 
together as in bygone days the sacred songs they 
used to sing in the dear old home, as in the days 
of yore before the thief, sin and death, had 
entered the beloved precincts unawares, carry- 
ing away two of their jewels. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 233 

This gem of motherhood lived anew for her 
children. All of the fond regards for parents 
and idolatrous devotion for her husband had 
been condensed and consolidated into one un- 
changeable, undying, filial love for this son and 
daughter. Their lives glided as smoothly and 
undisturbed as the waters of the clear, shimmer- 
ing river. True, they all worked day after day, 
but they thanked God for strength and health, 
capacitating them for labor and to serve each 
other. The mother’s smile always greeted them 
at the door when they returned from their daily 
toils and the appetizing food smoked temptingly 
on the table. 

Dolores although employed all night and part 
of the day found time to actively engage in 
religious, social and philanthropic pursuits. A 
frivolous, neglectful, worldly matron once re- 
marked, “ Why, Dolores Hegmeyher, when do 
you sleep? I have never seen any one just like 
you. You are present at all social functions, 
receptions, dinners, parties, etc., if they do not 
interfere with your conscientious scruples. You 
never miss a service in the church. You teach 
a class in Sabbath School — are president of the 
juniors, secretary of the young people’s society, 
secretary of the missionaries societies, a mem- 
ber of the Woman’s Christian Temperance 
Union and then you give your very life to that 
Loyal Temperance Legion that you superintend. 
How many children have you enlisted in that, 
now ? ” 

“ I have three hundred and forty-six.” 

“ And how often do they meet ? ” 


234 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ Once a week, each Thursday, immediately 
after school.” 

“ Just think of that — more than three hun- 
dred children ! Don’t they nearly set you 
crazy ? ” 

“ No, indeed. I enjoy the hours spent with 
them very much. They are so bright and prepare 
their lesson with such earnest thought and care. 
My helpers are capable ladies and take great 
interest in instructing them. We have nineteen 
ready to graduate soon. And believe me, even 
those little primary tots, many of them less than 
six, can describe the body, and the effects of 
liquor upon it in a way that would amaze you. 
I am firmly convinced that the only way to save 
our country from the curse of rum is by educat- 
ing the children. God speed the day when it 
shall be swept from America, the land of the 
free. The instructions given in the principles 
of right to-day will remain with them until 
eternity. The future destiny of our country 
depends upon the foundations laid in training the 
youth of our land. Oh, if mothers would only 
awake to the interests of their own children and 
cease to serve the abominable poison at the table 
or even in puddings, candies, cakes, pies, punch, 
egg-nog, toddies etc., — cultivating appetites to 
eventually burn out the life and soul of their 
own innocent, handsome boys, and then say, 
* Oh, I allow my children to choose for them- 
selves! If they are permitted the use of liquor 
during childhood in their home, they will never 
crave or care for it when they grow older.’ 

“ How perfectly absurd the very suggestion ! 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 235 

As though the cultivated taste of years, together 
with the parent’s approval and the appetite 
acquired, would or could be easily cast aside in 
after years. They have been trained by their 
mothers, who should be to them the most beauti- 
ful creature in the universe, to believe it right. 
They have no fear or dread of the consequence 
— in fact, they have never been taught, nor do 
they know anything of its effects. Many infants, 
less than twenty-four hours old, have a mixture 
of spirits, water and sugar forced between their 
tiny lips in a spoon and are compelled to swallow 
the poisonous drug for the first time in life, ’ere 
those wee lips have tasted the food provided by 
a wise Creator for their nourishment. Each 
little attack of cholic during their infancy is 
treated in a like manner, as are also colds and 
every conceivable or imaginary physical ailment 
throughout childhood and youth. They see the 
beloved parents drink it at the table and the 
jeweled fingers of mother fills a small glass with 
the sparkling tempter and offers it to her child, 
pleased and amused to see it eagerly quaffed. 
She gives more and more as it grows older, and 
so on, until the child craves wine as it does food. 

Is this child to blame if it fills a drunkard’s 
grave and is not that mother responsible for its 
downfall ? It is my candid opinion that the moth- 
ers who serve wine, if only in cakes and puddings, 
can to a great degree blame themselves if their 
sons cause their gray heads to bow with sorrow 
and shame, as they watch them slowly sink into 
the dark abyss of sin and ruin. Oh, if mothers 
could be made to realize and understand the 


236 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

danger surrounding their children, and spend less 
time at socials, clubs, operas, card parties, ball 
rooms etc., giving more attention to the training 
of the little lives entrusted to their keeping, 
instead of leaving them in the hands of 
unscrupulous maids and nurses, how different the 
social, moral and business career of our future 
generations would be. Understand, I do not 
wish the mothers of our country to become slaves 
for their families, nor do I expect them to 
ignore the necessary social requirements, but if 
they must live careless, thoughtless, indifferent, 
worldly lives why will they shame the high, lofty, 
noble calling of wife and mother by taking upon 
themselves the sacred marriage vows and then 
dishonoring the sanctity of the home by leaving 
the training, care, education and management of 
the children and household in the hands of hired, 
uninterested people. No one can understand a 
child as does the true mother heart. And if 
the love, care, companionship, associations and 
mutual exchange of thoughts and confidence be- 
tween children and mothers are neglected such 
parents may well have reason to dread the future 
career of their sons and daughters, and shame on 
the father, who will dare to drink, gamble, smoke, 
profane God’s name, visit places of iniquity and 
sin and severely reprimand or punish his son for 
the same offense. We frequently hear mothers 
say, ‘ Oh, well, you know, men are supposed to do 
such things ! ’ But women cannot afford to go to 
such places, thus encouraging the boys to follow 
the example of their wicked fathers. Do you 
mean to tell me that a wise God created creatures 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 237 

in his own image, endowed with great intellects, 
capable of accomplishing marvelous achieve- 
ments, fitted to rule our country and preside at 
the head of the home, minus will power, 
possessed of vile, sinful natures, necessitating 
them to fall below the proper standard of 
decency? No, never! God expected man and 
woman to be equally pure and set equal examples 
of honorable worthy lives before their offspring. 

“ The place unfit for the wife and daughter to 
visit is equally degrading for father and son. To 
raise noble children, parents must be alike chaste 
and respectable. It is useless to live lives of sin 
and command children to be pure and undefiled. 
Precepts and examples must go together to have 
the desired effect. If men are determined to live 
lives of iniquity and woman will be frivolous but- 
terflies, why do they marry and make unhappy 
homes? I approve of marriage, but I believe it 
sacred and this is the reason we are training the 
children of the Loyal Temperance Legion in 
these principles of right. We are instructing 
them in what the parents are neglecting. We are 
aiming at a higher standard of morals for the 
future generations. We are trying to right the 
wrongs in the homes. Yes, I work hard, night 
and day, but I am glad to serve in the cause of 
right. If but one soul is saved through my 
efforts, my labor shall not have been in vain. Ah, 
my friend, if parents would do their duty, others 
would not be thus burdened. What I say to you 
is not imaginary. I know of what I speak. All 
I am now and ever shall be, I owe to my 
mother’s training and God’s mercy. Oh, for 


238 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


more mothers such as she ! But God grant they 
may have husbands to assist, instead of hindering 
them, in making their home an earthly paradise.” 

The lady thus addressed by Dolores was not 
offended at the girl’s pointed remark, but seemed 
very much impressed and, after a few minutes of 
silence and earnest thought, replied, “ yes, Dolores 
I believe what you say is true. I never realized 
before how little of my time has been given to my 
children. True, they have a good governess, good 
nurse and good maids, are well fed and clothed, 
and I believe thus providing for them I have 
done my duty but you, my dear friend, have 
taught me different. In the future, society shall 
see less of me. I shall personally conduct the 
management of my home and make it more 
attractive for my husband. I shall give to my 
children the care, companionship and love of a 
true mother heart. And, in short, from this 
day henceforth, I shall endeavor to deserve the 
noble title of wife and mother.” 

Little Dolores as she was commonly called 
helped to earn the money to maintain the home. 
She was exceedingly popular, attended such soc- 
ial gatherings as she considered right and proper 
and served her church, her God and humanity; 
but, above all, and first of all, she loved, served 
and idolized her mother. 

The child managed to save a little of her 
income each month to pay on her father’s 
indebtedness. Her duties were performed in the 
office in a perfectly satisfactory manner, and the 
time came at last for her two weeks’ vacation. 


PR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 239 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE REV. EZELL VANDERGAST, D. D., AND THE VISIT 
WITH THE NOBLES. 

Dolores preferred remaining at home for her 
vacation but the wise mother persuaded her to 
visit relatives in a country village where she could 
get the benefit of the cool, balmy, fresh air and 
one Saturday afternoon, she arrived at the happy 
country home of her cousin, Robert Noble. The 
next morning she accompanied them to church. 
When they arrived the services had begun and the 
congregation were singing their first hymn. Her 
cousin had just seated her comfortably in the old 
family pew when the minister’s eyes fell upon the 
stranger. He gazed earnestly and then, smiling, 
stepped from the pulpit and walked down the 
aisle to the seat occupied by Dolores and, present- 
ing her with his hymn book, he clasped the little 
gloved hand and whispered, 

“ I am delighted to see you again and give you 
a hearty welcome to my church. I recognized 
you instantly the moment I saw your face in the 
congregation — would have known you ’mid ten 
thousand. No other woman was ever created 
just like you.” 

The girl’s face flushed as she replied, “ Why, 
Ezell Vandergast — or rather I should have said, 
Mr. or Rev. Vandergast — is it possible ? I did not 
know — I had not heard of your entering the 
ministry.” 


240 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ No, I presume not. How long will you re- 
main here ? ” 

“ Two weeks, perhaps.” 

“ I shall hope to see you often,” and, bowing 
politely, he returned to the pulpit. She was 
indeed surprised. Ezell Vandergast a minister! 
Of all men in the world he was the last one she 
would have expected to see in the pulpit. 

While in college he made no profession of relig- 
ion, never attended church, was worldly-minded, 
wild, mercenary and irreverent. What could 
have changed him? True, he was a very bright 
student and a boy generally liked — a pleasant, 
congenial escort, the leader of all social functions. 
She could imagine him a success as attorney, 
physician, in politics, as a financier, but Ezell 
Vandergast in the pulpit seemed as absurd and 
out of place as dear old Uncle Byron Waud would 
be trying to manage or conduct a menagerie or 
circus. The music ceased and the handsome 
young minister arose and announced his text. 
“ Faith, hope, and charity, these three, but the 
greatest of these is charity.” The congregation 
sat breathless, devouring the eloquent discourse as 
it fell from those youthful lips. No apostle of 
Christ ever handled a text more beautifully, caus- 
ing more earnest, reverent, profound thought than 
did this consecrated servant of God. Dolores sat 
astounded. Could this be Ezell Vandergast, 
her college sweetheart — her true, warm-hearted 
friend — the boy she had always admired, but 
dared not encourage, because of his reckless tend- 
encies? Now, he was a power for good, a true 
prophet of God. No ordinary Christians could 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 241 

speak such words as those uttered from the pulpit 
that day. She liked him as a dear friend — yes, 
as her very best friend. He had loved her since 
the day she entered the college and told her 
so repeatedly. How she had laughed at the 
absurdity of children loving each other and 
assured him she would treat him as a brother, or 
friend, but nothing more ! She would never wed 
a sinful man. Marriage and the home life was 
too sacred. A house divided against itself could 
not stand. Her future husband must be a Chris- 
tian. She believed a woman had a perfect right 
to demand the same standard of morality from 
her lover or husband as he claimed from his 
sweetheart or wife. Now, Ezell had reformed. 
Did he still love her? Yes, she saw that same 
look of devotion flash from those rich, dark eyes 
when he first recognized her. Would he again 
press his suit? If so, what should she do? Did 
she love him now? Any woman should feel 
proud to possess the love of that handsome, tal- 
ented, consecrated man with such unequaled, 
oratory powers and gift of language. Yes, she 
believed she loved him better than any man she 
had ever known. Her other male friends and 
acquaintances were nothing to be compared with 
this noble gentleman. But did she love him 
enough to become his wife? She feared not. 
The services closed and her cousin remarked, 

“ You are acquainted with our new minister, 
are you, Dolores ? ” 

“ Yes, cousin Robert, he was a college friend 
of mine.” 

“ Oh, indeed? Well, he is the finest preacher 


242 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


we have ever had and if spared long in the world 
will some day make a great man, mark what I 
tell you. Here he comes now. Good-morning, 
Rev. Vandergast ; I am pleased to learn that you 
and my cousin here are old friends. Will you 
accompany us home for lunch. You will no doubt 
enjoy an opportunity to converse on subjects of 
mutual interest as schoolmates often do.” 

Pretty Nell Noble had just descended from the 
choir and, learning the nature of the conversa- 
tion, gave a cordial second and welcome to her 
father's invitation, insisting on the young divine’s 
acceptance. He stood a moment, as though trying 
to decide, and then, turning to Dolores, said 
frankly, 

Miss Hegmeyher do you wish me to go? ” 

The girl in her usual pleasant manner, replied : 

“ Why, certainly I shall be pleased to have you. 
No one appreciates the friendship of old school 
companions more than I.” 

She showed no signs of embarrassment and 
those present did not suspect that anything had 
ever occurred between them more than friend- 
ship and good-will. The man gave her one deep, 
searching look, as he replied, 

“ Thank you, brother Noble, I appreciate the 
invitation so kindly given by you and your daugh- 
ter, and shall be delighted to accept the hospi- 
tality of your home.” 

Dolores, smiling, said : “ I shall walk with 
cousin Robert and let you and Nell walk to- 
gether.” 

They had gone but a few squares when a hand- 
some, well-dressed young man approached them 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 243 

on a bicycle. He lifted his hat and was passing 
when he suddenly exclaimed, 

“ Miss Hegmeyher, is it possible — the last per- 
son in the world I would have expected to see. 
I am delighted! Believe me, the pleasure is all 
mine. When did you come to our little burg?” 

“ How do you do, Mr. Mannington? I came 
yesterday. The surprise and pleasure is mutual, 
for I was not aware that you resided here.” 

“ Indeed, I do, and am proud of it, if you are to 
honor our village with your presence, and may I 
hope you will remain long and come often ? ” 

“ Thank you, I shall possibly remain with my 
relatives two weeks, and who are the people so 
fortunate to be your kin? Is it Rev. Vander- 
gast or Mr. Noble and his daughter?” 

“ Rev. Vandergast and I were college friends — 
the Nobles are my cousins.” 

“ Oh, indeed.” 

“May I have the pleasure of calling at your 
home, Mr. Noble, if Miss Hegmeyher does not 
object? ” 

“ Why, Kennard Mannington, my boy, you 
know a hearty welcome has always awaited you 
at the home of the Nobles. Will you lunch with 
us? ” 

“ No, thank you, I have an engagement at the 
noon hour, but will call immediately after lunch, 
if agreeable to Miss Hegmeyher.” 

“ Certainly, Mr. Mannington, we shall expect 
you/’ 

After he passed on, Nell Noble remarked, 
“ Cousin Dolores, where did you meet Kennard 
Mannington ? ” 


244 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“ I met him last summer at a convention. We 
were entertained in the same home and were 
frequently thrown together. He was kind, 
thoughtful and a very congenial companion. 
Thus we became quite friendly.” 

“ Do you like him, Dolores ?” 

“ Yes, very much. He certainly did make 
it pleasant for me during the convention week 
and I believe him a perfect gentleman. Why do 
you ask — do you not like him? If not, I surely 
would not think of receiving him in your home.” 

“ Oh, no, no, nothing like that. I have known 
him all my life. He is one of our most promising 
boys and of a fine family and Kennard is very 
wealthy, too. I was only thinking I heard him 
mention meeting a young lady at that convention 
and wondered if you were the one of whom he 
spoke. I am now convinced that you are the 
same, for he said he and his new friend were en- 
tertained together, and his description of the lady 
was like you. His remarks were very compli- 
mentary.” 

There was a sad, wistful expression in the 
clear, blue eyes of Nell Noble, as she said, 
“ You are a fortunate girl, cousin, and his friend- 
ship is not the kind to be ignored. I predict a 
happy future for you.” 

“ Why, Nell, my little Blue Bell cousin, what 
are you talking about ? I do not expect to ignore 
the friendship of Mr. Mannington, and hope your 
prophesy of a happy future for me will be 
realized, but I assure you our mutual friend Mr. 
Mannington has nothing to do whatever with my 
pleasure or sorrow, either to make or to mar.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 245 


They had reached the Noble homestead and 
their conversation ceased. When they entered 
the parlor, Dolores glanced at Ezell Vandergast 
and noticed his face was stern, grave and sad. 
She laughed and chatted gayly of school days, 
asking numerous questions about various students 
and teachers. He answered at random and 
tried to appear interested, but seemed to be think- 
ing earnestly about something far removed from 
the topic of conversation. The family excused 
themselves one at a time on various pretexts, 
leaving Dr. Vandergast and Dolores the sole oc- 
cupants of the parlor. He quickly clasped her 
hand, saying, 

“ Dolores, Dolores, my Emerald, my beloved, 
my very life! I am still waiting for you. I 
love you and you only and can never love an- 
other. If I do not marry you, I shall wed no 
woman and shall meet you at the throne of God 
with the same untarnished love. My heart is 
yours and has been since the first time I saw 
your sweet face and curly head, the day you 
entered college when a mere child. I watched 
you grow into womanhood and then told you how 
I loved you. Your answer was you would never 
marry a sinful man. You would love me as a 
brother but could never be my wife When we 
parted at college I was most miserable. I sought 
pleasure but found none. Your dear face was 
ever before me, day and night. I only possessed 
one thing that had ever been yours the little 
pocket Bible you once gave me. I read it, not 
because I loved it, for I hated God. Why had 
he allowed me to lose you? But, as I perused 


246 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


the Scripture, I found comfort and peace and 
learned that you were right — God had a work 
for me to perform, and falling upon my knees, 
I cried out, ‘ Here am I, Father! Take me and 
make me useful. Let me do thy bidding. If it 
is not thy will that I should wed the one I love, 
bind my heart to thy cause. Oh, Christ, I am 
willing to take up my cross and follow thee ! ’ 
And, dearest Dolores, from that day I have 
felt resigned to my fate. I have never enter- 
tained a hope that I might sometime gain you 
or possibly ever see your precious face again on 
earth, but I knew it would all work out ac- 
cording to the divine will of God and trusted it 
to his wisdom, but to-day when I saw you the 
old hope revived. Tell me, darling, is my case 
still hopeless? Can you love me now that I 
am a Christian ? ” 

“ Ezell, you are my very dearest and best 
friend; I am proud of you — glad that you have 
proven yourself a noble man and turned 
to the Friend who alone can understand the 
heart. Since we parted at the dear old college 
I have passed through many dark places, al- 
most * the very valley and the shadow of 
death, but the Lord hath prepared me a table 
in the presence of mine enemies, and his mer- 
cies have continued to follow me.’ I have 
assumed grave responsibilities. My life is no 
longer my own. I am living for others. You 
must wait, Ezell. I cannot answer your ques- 
tion now. Sometime, perhaps. Oh, I would 
rather die than give you pain, but I, too, must 
serve God and those who have suffered for me. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 247 

You know nothing of what I speak, and I dare 
not tell you. Won’t you trust me? Believe 
me true. I have suffered since we parted. 
God alone knows the pain I have endured. 
But his grace is sufficient and will sustain me 
until the end of the race.” 

“ But, Dolores dear, think of the good we 
might accomplish together with our lives and 
home consecrated to the Master’s service. 
Whatever your burdens may be let me endure 
them for you. Why are you afraid to trust me 
with your secrets.” 

“ No, Ezell, that isn’t possible, they must be 
my burdens alone. I do trust you but dare not 
explain. We will trust all to God. Sometime 
things may be different. Call often while I 
am here — I shall be glad to have you. But, 
please keep our secret from my relatives.” 

“ Very well, as you like, darling. I shall still 
hope.” 

And raising her beautiful hand he imprinted a 
fond kiss on those ivory-like fingers. 

“ I hear them coming to announce lunch. 
Please, Ezell, don’t forget we are only college 
friends to the world, remember ! ” 

“ Yes, I understand,” and he did keep the 
promise well. 

Through the lunch hour and during the after- 
noon Rev. Vandergast conversed pleasantly with 
the Nobles, giving much attention to pretty Nell. 
They sang duets together, he turning her music 
for her, and appearing happy and contented. 
Mr. Mannington arrived in due time and had 
neither words or eyes for any one but Dolores. 


248 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


She could not refrain from contrasting the two 
and comparing their respective qualities. Ezell 
was tall, broad-shouldered, with black hair and 
eyes, handsome, noble, good, true — a preacher of 
the gospel, receiving a meager salary. 

Kennard, a man of medium stature, light hair, 
blue eyes, good features, bright, vivacious, full 
of life and fun, excellent company, and a whole- 
sale jeweler with a fine income. She liked them 
both. Ezell was her choice. But, deep in the 
secret recesses of her heart, the sacred love and 
devotion due a husband, the companion of a life- 
time, was not there. No, she could not wed a 
man she did not care more for than all the world 
besides. But she dare not marry. Family ties 
required her entire attention. Therefore, she 
would not pain Ezell by telling him the true con- 
dition of her feelings for him. She liked him 
more than other friends, but could not give him 
such regard as he offered her. Oh, if she could 
only learn to truly love him ! She knew he would 
try so hard to make her happy. Nell ceased play- 
ing and Ezell arose, looked at his watch and re- 
marked, 

“ I have enjoyed the hours spent in this ideal 
home very much and regret that I must now 
leave. However, I have some preparations to 
make for the evening service and must ask to 
be excused. I hope to see all of you at church 
to-night. Miss Noble is always to be depended 
upon. I consider her one of our most faithful 
members. Will Mr. Mannington and my old 
school friend be present ?” 

“ Yes, Ezell I shall be there,” replied Dolores. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 249 

“ And I too if Miss Hegmeyher comes. You 
may rest assured, Rev. Vandergast, I shall be a 
very regular attendant at your church while 
she remains with us,” replied young Mannington. 

The minister smiled a wan, little smile, but 
Dolores noticed a shadow lurking in those dark 
eyes as he gazed at her an instant and walked 
away quickly. Nell excused herself and went 
out, saying, “ You will remain with us for dinner, 
won’t you, Kennard ? ” 

“ Yes, thank you Nell.” 

After she left, Dolores remarked, “ I think my 
cousin one of the most beautiful girls I have ever 
met and so talented. She plays well, and her 
voice is marvelous. Do you know, when she 
sings, I like to close my eyes and think of 
heaven — there is something so angelic, sacred and 
sweet about her music.” 

“ Yes, Nell does sing and play well, and she 
is a pretty girl, too, and as good as she is beauti- 
ful. I have always been very fond of her. I 
have never known but one girl in my life I have 
really admired more than Nell. She and I are 
the best of friends. Just like you and Rev. 
Vandergast.” 

Dolores could hardly suppress a smile. Like 
she and Ezell ! Ah, little he knew how affairs 
stood between them! Why should it concern 
him. He was attractive, entertaining, congenial 
company, but only a friend. Kennard Manning- 
ton accompanied Dolores to and from church 
while the Rev. Vandergast walked home with 
Nell Noble. 

After the girls retired that night, Nell re- 


250 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

marked : “ Cousin Dolores, you are certainly a 

magnetic power to draw the boys. Do you know 
Rev. Vandergast has never so much as walked 
home with a girl since he arrived in this town 
until to-day. He was always very polite but 
seemed so reserved — as though trying to hold us 
at a distance — and to-day he joked, sang, laughed 
and talked just like other folks. You certainly 
did bring him down from his high, lofty perch.” 

“ You did not understand him, Nell, that was 
all. I knew Ezell before he was a Christian. In 
college he was always clever, brim full of fun 
and merriment, the very life of his classes. I 
was indeed surprised to see him in clerical attire 
and could hardly reconcile my thoughts to the 
fact. At first it seemed absurd. And do you 
know during the entire sermon this morning I 
could scarcely believe that intellectual, stately 
divine, the same, high-spirited boy of college 
days, but out of the pulpit he is the same old, 
true-hearted Ezell, the very soul of honor and 
loyalty.” 

“ And how about Kennard ? Do you care more 
for him as you learn to know him better ? ” 

“ Why, no, Blue Bell, I have always admired 
Mr. Mannington and think him excellent com- 
pany, a perfect gentleman, and as such I enjoy his 
friendship.” 

“Then you are not fascinated? He has not 
captivated your heart yet ? ” 

“ No, no, my dear cousin. Nothing like that; 
and, more, I am quite sure he never will, nor do 
I think he is trying to. Our friendship is only 
a passing, fleeting acquaintance, a pleasant recol- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 251 

lection such as smooth down the rough places 
along life’s journey. He spoke beautifully of 
you, Nell.” 

“ Did he ? What did he say ? ” 

“ Oh, he said you sang well — that you were 
beautiful and as good as you were pretty; that 
he was very fond of you and had only seen one 
girl in the whole world he admired more than you, 
Now, wasn’t that fine ? ” 

“ Yes, very kind, indeed! Did he tell you who 
the other girl was ? ’ 

“ Why, no, little Blue Bell, of course not. If 
he has not told you, his dearest friend, I could 
not expect him to tell me, having known me so 
short a time.” 

“ Cousin Dolores, do you ever expect to 
marry ? ” 

“ That, my dear cousin, is a difficult question to 
answer. I think every true woman hopes to be 
some time a happy wife and mother, but I am 
surrounded with different environments from 
most girls and my first duty is to my beloved 
mother. I never expect to wed while she lives, 
or while my father is insolvent. Therefore, it 
will be many years ’ere I marry, if I ever do. Re- 
member, dear, I am not surrounded with wealth 
and luxury with nothing to occupy my time and 
attention. I am responsible for the pleasure of 
others and stand pledged to care for them, while 
you are free to think and plan for yourself and 
future. But, believe me, Nell, dear, I am happy 
and contented. It is such a pleasure to be a 
comfort to mother ! ” 

“ Yes, Dolores, I believe you are. And I, with 


252 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

all my opportunities, am sad and depressed. I 
shall never wed. May I confide to you my 
story ? ” 

“ Certainly, sweet Blue Bell, if you like.” 

“ I know it seems selfish for me to burden you 
with my troubles when they are mere trifles com- 
pared with what you have had to undergo, but, 
Dolores, I have not your power of endurance. 
I once loved a young man whose name I will not 
mention. We had been all in all to each other 
for years. In fact, we were sweethearts when 
children. I have never loved another, nor shall 
I ever; and he cared for me only. Dolores, he 
was my idol, my pride, my all. I was his dar- 
ling, his joy, his sweetheart. We lived for each 
other. We beheld our light and sunshine in the 
lovelit eyes of each other. Our joys and sor- 
rows were one. The wedding day was set. I 
wore the engagement ring. The trousseau was 
about completed. When he called one evening, 
I noticed a difference in his demeanor and thought 
him ill but he told me he had met a young lady 
and immediately realized if he were ever happy 
she must be his wife. He could not live without 
her. The love in his heart for me had been ex- 
tinguished — blotted out forever. He liked me 
still as a sister, a friend, but could never give 
to me the whole heart of love due a wife. He 
was willing to marry me, if I insisted, and be 
good and kind, but his love belonged to another. 
I bid him farewell, returned the engagement ring 
and left him free to woo and wed the other girl. 
Since that day my life and hopes have been 
blighted. I try to be brave and trust God to 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 253 

sustain me, as your dear mother, Cousin Lillian, 
has always done but my will power is very weak 
and my love so great that I find it difficult to keep 
my head above the surging waves. All the 
pleasure I get in life is found in my music and 
church work and even in that way my voice is 
like the bird with the broken pinion. It has 
never soared so high again.” 

“ My dear little Blue Bell, my heart does indeed 
ache for you. I have never known that deep 
love of which you speak. Sometimes I think 
my nature is different from many and I am in- 
capable of feeling that deep regard I have so 
much admired in gentle mother. I have never 
known a person who I felt I could not live with- 
out, but mamma. If God should call her from me 
I should want to die immediately. But I know 
no man whom I could really adore with my whole 
heart, and think no one should wed without that 
deep, sacred regard. Nell, dear, it seems to me 
that man did not deserve your love. To me his 
conduct was heartless, cruel.” 

“ Oh, no, no, please do not say anything against 
him. I cannot endure that. He did it all for the 
best. It was proper that I should know his love 
had changed. He was right and I am wrong.” 

“ All right, girlie, if you choose to think so, 
but if he were my man I should think different. 
Did he wed the other girl ? ” 

“ Not yet.” 

“ Does she know of his perfidy toward you? ” 

“ Oh, Dolores, please don’t call it that ! No, I 
do not think he would tell her.” 

“ Does she love him in return ? ” 


254 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ No I think not, but he hopes to win her 
heart and he will succeed. No woman could 
withstand his influence. Happy, happy woman, 
she!” 

“ Well, I do not think so. From my stand- 
point of view, she is the girl to be pitied. Sup- 
pose he should wed her and find out after they 
were married that he liked another better. He 
would no doubt consider it his Christian duty 
to tell her about it. Then what would be the 
consequence. No, dearie, you are the one to 
be congratulated, and if I were in your place I 
should pat myself daily and say, ‘ Thanks to his 
noble honor, I am the lucky girl/ ” 

“ But you would think different, Dolores, if 
you really loved him.” 

“ Oh, yes, possibly I should. But, do you 
know Nell, as much as I admire the love and de- 
votion experienced by you and dear mother, I 
hope I shall never possess that blind love that 
cannot see when people are deceiving or doing 
me an injustice.” 

“ I suppose you are right, cousin, but I can 
see no wrong in him. I shall love him until 
eternity.” 

“ Very well, Blue Bell, rest assured your case 
is not hopeless. Men of that class change their 
minds often. Six months from now he may 
have forgotten all about his infatuation for the 
other girl and become more desperately enam- 
oured with you than ever. Do not fret and 
worry that pretty little forehead into wrinkles 
and wash those blue-bell eyes out with briny 
tears ; the chances are all in your favor and you 
will win out yet, I wage ten to one.” 


OR, UNDER l THE LILAC BUSH 255 

“ Your words are some consolation, Dolores. 
I only wish it were possible your prophecy 
might be realized. But, alas, it can never be.” 

“ Now, little doubting Thomas, it is just as 
easy to believe they will prove true as to believe 
the negative. And just consider the pleasure 
such agreeable thoughts furnish you. Suppose 
you try it. Look for the bright side, dear, and 
you are sure to locate it. Do you know the girl 
he has lost his head over? ” 

“ Yes, I love her dearly, and do not blame him 
for admiring her. She is so sweet, clever and 
good.” 

“ Then possibly she will reject and return him 
to you.” 

“ No, no, she does not even know I love him.” 

“ My dear little cousin, trust all to God. If 
it is His wise plan, your lover will return. * All 
things work together for good to those who 
love the Lord/ ” 

Dolores enjoyed her vacation very much. 
The two weeks seemed to pass quickly. The 
Nobles entertained for her, and the old walls 
resounded with joyous laughter and merriment. 
Rev. Vandergast and Kennard Mannington 
spent much time there, singing, talking, walking, 
driving, riding, playing croquet, etc. Young 
Mannington showed her marked attention, but 
nothing beyond the proper bounds of a gallant 
young friend. The evening before her depar- 
ture she and Ezell chanced to be left alone on 
the croquet grounds. The sun had just passed 
from view over the western hills and they sat 
conversing in the twilight. Lifting her little 


256 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


hand, he pressed it to his lips and tears glistened 
in his eyes as he said, 

“ Dolores, my love, to-morrow you go away 
and leave my life, dark, empty, void. Have you 
no word of cheer to offer me? Have I no hope? 
Do you love another? Pardon me, but I must 
know the truth. Do you love Kennard Man- 
nington ? ” 

She turned those sad, gray eyes, so full of 
sympathy and sorrow to him. The truth shining 
from their depths penetrated his very soul, as 
she replied, “ Ezell, I have much to tell you. 
Listen carefully to each word I speak. As I 
told you before, since we parted at college I 
have suffered — God alone knows to what de- 
gree. For several years the shadow of the 
liquor curse has hovered over our once happy 
home. The cloud continued to grow denser, 
darker, finally it fell, and engulfed us all. 
Mother and I would have been its murdered 
victims had not a Divine Power protected us. 
Father has gone, we know not where. We were 
left homeless, penniless, the family name deeply 
in debt. Brother has built a little home. He 
and I are paying for it by monthly payments and 
maintaining our dear mother, who gave up pa- 
rents, fame, honor, wealth, everything for her 
family — was cursed, abused, starved but never 
flinched from duty. She lived for us. When 
father forsook us, I pledged my life to her ser- 
vice. I vowed to provide, care for and protect 
her and to clear our name of insolvency. You 
ask me if I love Kennard Mannington. No, I 
do not; nor has he ever asked me to. We are 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 257 


only friends. Do I love any one more than you ? 
Yes, my mother is more to me than the whole 
world and I shall live to avenge the wrong done 
her. But I think more of you than any other 
man I have ever met. But, Ezell, I have not that 
worshipful regard for you that mother gave 
father. I know I should hate you or any other 
man who would treat me as he did his angelic 
wife. I do not believe I am capable of loving 
as some women do. Now, Ezell, you know why 
I do not marry you. After mother is properly 
provided for and father’s debts liquidated then 
and then only I shall be free. But it is pos- 
sible it will take my entire life to accomplish 
all required at my hand. I do not expect you to 
wait for me, nor do I think it wise. I wish you 
to wed and be happy. But if I am ever free and 
you are still unmarried and willing to accept the 
little love I am capable of giving, I shall be your 
wife. That is all I can promise.” 

He clasped her in his arms, kissed her pas- 
sionately, exclaiming, “ My precious beloved, I 
shall wait, yes, wait until eternity if necessary. 
The little love you give me is more than all 
the world beside. We shall leave it all to God. 
His will be done. You have at last made me 
happy.” 

They arose and walked down the path by 
the river together, he telling of his hopes and 
joy. When they returned, Kennard Manning- 
ton and Nell stood at the gate earnestly talking 
as they approached, Kennard remarked, “ Miss 
Hegmeyher, I have been waiting for you thirty 
minutes. Will you take a drive with me? ” 


258 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ No, thank you, Mr. Mannington, this is my 
last evening here, and I think we would all en- 
joy it more if we spent it together.” 

“ Very well, just as you like. The twilight is 
beautiful and I thought you would enjoy the fresh 
air.” 

Several called throughout the evening and time 
glided quickly by. When Kennard bid Dolores 
good-night, he whispered, “ May I come to see 
you at your own home sometime ? ” 

“ Certainly, I shall be glad to have you call 
any time you chance to be in the city.” 

They exchanged cards and friendly “ Good- 
nights.” She walked to the gate, chattering gayly 
with Ezell, then her voice dropped to a soft whis- 
per as she said, “ Good-bye — Ezell.” 

He kissed her hand in true knightly fashion, 
as he sighed, “ Oh, I am so very happy! Fare- 
well, my own darling, until we meet again ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

BURIED IN A PAUPER'S FIELD IN A STRANGE COUN- 
TRY. 

Dolores enjoyed her visit in the country very 
much but was glad to be home again. She was 
never happy away from her adored mother. 
When shopping with other girls instead of raving 
over dainty little frills and furbelows for her- 
self as young ladies usually do, she would select 
something neat and exclaim, “ Oh, isn’t that 
just lovely, so becoming to mamma! She must 
have it. She will look so sweet and dear in it ! ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 259 

“ Dolores, don’t you think this is beautiful ? 
Why not get it for yourself ? ” some of the girls 
would remark. She would carelessly glance at 
it and reply, 

“ Yes, it is very pretty, but I cannot afford 
both and I prefer this for mamma. She 
is always first, girls. My dear, dear old sweet- 
heart, you know. I shall take this one, please ! ” 

One evening Eric came into the house, sad and 
depressed. He ate but little supper and looked 
as though he was either ill or worried. 

“ Are you feeling badly? ” 

“ No, thank you, mother, I am only tired.” 

“ Has anything gone wrong at the office? ” 

“ No, everything is all right down there. Do 
not worry, I shall be all right.” 

When Dolores started to work at eight o’clock, 
he said, 

“ Sister, I think I shall walk down to your of- 
fice with you, the air will do me good. I shall 
return in a few minutes, mother.” 

Dolores kissed her mother as her habit was for 
she never left the house without that fond good- 
bye kiss. When they were alone, she whispered, 

“ What is it, brother — you have something to 
tell.” 

“ Yes, Dolores, it seems our troubles will 
never cease.” 

“ What is it now — have you heard anything of 
father?” 

“ Yes, he is married! ” 

“What, not married? He could not be law- 
fully married. Mother is not divorced.” 

“ No, that is the worst of it. But he went 


260 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


through the ceremony, just the same, and has been 
living with the other woman. He brought her to 
this city a few days ago. They were boarding 
down on Jane Street. The woman died a few 
hours ago. Some of the officers found them to- 
day and arrested father for bigamy. I got an 
inkling and went to see about it and found it was 
all too true. He showed his certificate, ack- 
nowledged his marriage to her, and wanted a 
public trial. Said he hoped to get a sentence to 
prison. He deserves it, there is no question about 
that, but he is doing it purposely to bring deeper 
disgrace on mother and us children. He boldly 
confessed that as his only object, and laughed at 
me when I went to the police station. He said, 
‘ Well, boy, I suppose you will all feel rather 
cheap when your old dad lands behind the bars of 
the state pen. I guess I will humble your pride 
all right this time. Nice record you will have to 
look back to. Father in the penitentiary for 
bigamy ! ” 

“ Oh, brother, is there no way we can save 
him ? ” 

“ Yes, I pursuaded the officers to release him 
on bail, and give him a chance to leave the town, 
also to keep his name out of the paper so the 
world would not know of our shame, and, for 
our sake, they promised. But he did not care 
to be free and refused to give bond. The only 
thing left for me to do was to give a mortgage on 
our little home and secure his release. The judge 
ordered him to leave town. But just after the 
police court adjourned the word was received 
that the woman had died. He declared himself 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 261 

financially embarrassed and said the county 
would have to pay the funeral expenses that 
would again bring our names before the public. 
So I telephoned Uncle James Hegmeyher and he 
came in and we gave our notes to the undertaker 
together for a casket and bought a lot in the 
Tredwell cemetery where the poor creature will 
be interred to-morrow. Then District Attorney 
Arthurs gave father a talking to, advising him to 
leave at once, and he did so. But before he 
started he took several hundred dollars of gold 
from his pocket and showed it to Uncle James 
and I saying, ‘ You see I could have paid the 
expenses if I chose. I am not quite broke but I 
didn’t propose to do it.’ ” 

“ Brother, is this the same woman he left 
with.” 

“ No, they tell me this one is decent and did 
not know he had a living wife until they came 
here. Mrs. Jones, the lady with whom they 
were boarding when she died, was convinced 
that father had deceived this woman also. She 
said the evening they arrived in the city, father 
went down town and left her there with Mrs. 
Jones who told her that mother and we children 
still lived. The woman exclaimed, * Oh, God, 
save my babies. Mrs. Jones can what you 
tell me be true? Is my husband’s first wife 
alive ? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes, she lives in this town and is one of the 
best women the world has ever known, and has 
two of the nicest children in the city. I am 
not acquainted with them but have always heard 
that they were excellent people/ 


262 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“ * Then he is not my lawful husband. I have 
been deceived. He told me his wife was dead. 
I was a widow and left my family far away. 
My children do not know where I am. I de- 
serve my punishment, for leaving my helpless 
orphans, but he promised to send for them 
soon. Oh, my babies, my darlings ! ’ she ex- 
claimed, and then became quite hysterical. Fi- 
nally she screamed out, ‘ Oh, my head, my head, 
it is killing me ! ’ and fell to the floor. 
When Mrs. Jones picked her up, she was delir- 
ious and never rallied again. For two days and 
nights she lay in that unconscious condition, at 
times crying, and talking about her children. 
Then again she would imagine she was with 
them and laugh and call them endearing names 
but never was rational again, and did not tell who 
she was, where from or the names of her rela- 
tives. Father would not reveal anything, and 
the poor woman will be buried to-morrow in a 
lone grave in a far country, nameless, without a 
friend to shed a tear over her bier. And her 
lonely orphans will never know where their 
mother’s last earthly remains rests to await the 
judgment. Uncle James and I are giving her a 
decent burial, through respect to womankind.” 

“ Oh, brother, it is awful ! It seems the 
shadow will follow us until eternity.” 

“ Yes, Dolores, it is hard to endure. Now 
our little home that we worked so hard to pay 
for is mortgaged. I fear all we can earn will 
never be enough to clear us of debt and we will 
lose our home, at last. If it were not for mother 
I would not feel so badly about it. But I con- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 263 

sider I have done my duty. My conscience is 
clear.” 

“ Yes, Eric, you did what was right, and had 
you asked mother’s advice she would have not 
only given her consent, but would have praised 
you, and thanked God that father was saved from 
incarceration. But, brother, do not tell mother, 
and if we can save the home she need never 
know it. At least, we will keep it a secret as long 
as possible. Noble soul ! she has endured so 
much for us, and we can surely shield her from 
this blow and save her from knowing that he 
has married another woman. Do not fret in her 
presence, Eric, she will suspect something. Be 
brave. Remember those who worry, do not 
trust, and those who trust God do not worry. 
We shall win out yet. The victory shall be 
ours.” 

The next day a hearse passed down the street 
of K — ville and out to the Tredwell cemetery. 
Mrs. Lillian Constance Waud Hegmeyher, sit- 
ting on the veranda overlooking the city, saw 
it and remarked to Dolores, 

“ Ah, another soul has passed into eternity. 
It is a grown person, for the casket is large. 
Only one cab is required to carry the few loved 
ones who follow it to the tomb. But God alone 
knows possibly the reception given in its honor, 
in the mansion prepared for redeemed souls, 
will be greater than that received by many men 
and women of earthly renown and prominence.” 

That sympathetic, loyal heart did not suspect 
that the hearse contained the cold mortal clay of 
the woman bearing the same name as she — one 


264 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


who had been deceived, wooed, won and wed by 
Marshall Hegmeyher, the companion of her life, 
the father of her children, the man who had 
deserted her, but still remained her lawful hus- 
band. She did not know that the same shadow 
that had dragged her promising young life and 
the lives of her children from their proper posi- 
tion in the world to one of poverty and shame 
had also spread its darkening powers abroad, ab- 
sorbing the life of this poor widow and her 
orphan babes in its abyss of sorrow and ruin. 
She did not know that the one small floral offer- 
ing on the casket lid had been purchased by 
Dolores, her own daughter, through sympathy 
for the children bereft of a mother’s love; nor 
did she know that the sole occupants of that one 
lone cab were not heart-broken relatives but a 
minister, James Hegmeyher, Mrs. Jones and her 
own son, Eric, four strangers accompanying the 
body to the grave through pity and respect for 
humanity. 

That evening while perusing the Gazette she 
read these words aloud, 

u Mrs. E. M. Hegmeyher — died at the board- 
ing house of Mrs. Jones on Jane St., yesterday at 
4:20 p. m. Interment to-day at 2:30 in the 
Tredwell cemetery.” 

“ Dolores do you know any one living here by 
the name of Hegmeyher? ” 

“ No, mother.” 

“ The initials are the same as your father’s. 
Had you heard of this death ? ” 

“ Yes, mother.” 

“ Who do you suppose they are? ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 265 

“ They were transient people boarding with 
this Mrs. Jones, I think, mother.” 

“ Have they been there long ? ” 

“ No, only a few days I have been told.” 

“ Strange that the woman should be buried 
here ! Who was with her ? ” 

“ Just her husband, I think.” 

“ I should like to go and see him, possibly he is 
a relative of ours.” 

“ The lady was a perfect stranger, mother, 
and her husband left the city to-day.” 

“ I wonder if that was her casket we saw 
yesterday with the one cab ! ” 

“ Yes, mother dear, I think so. Mamma, I 
wish you would please turn to the society news, 
and see if the Ceres-Urdine’s reception is an- 
nounced. I received an invitation to-day. She 
makes her debut next week. Wait just a minute 
and I will show you the card. Oh, here it is; I 
like the style, don’t you, mamma ? ” 

“ Yes, Dolores, it is neat and attractive. 
Ceres is an interesting, pretty girl and should 
become quite popular.” 

“ Yes, I am very fond of her. But it is nearly 
time for me to be at the office, so I must be 
off and leave the society act for those who have 
time to waste and no place to use it. If they all 
had a darling mother like mine they would not 
care for so much silly amusement. The society 
of my noble, beautiful mother is more elevating 
to me than all the world besides, and prepares 
me to appear better than many years of asso- 
ciation with so-called society leaders. You, 
dear mother, are my pattern, my example, so- 


266 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


daily, morally, intellectually and spiritually/’ 
and, throwing her arms around the idolized pa- 
rent, she kissed her a fond good-night and tripped 
off to her night’s labor. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

KENNARD MANNINGTON’s PROPOSAL. 

Dolores, dressed in a dainty, simple, little 
gown, looked very sweet the evening of Ceres 
Urdine’s coming-out event. Many guests from a 
distance were present, including Kennard Man- 
nington, who showed her marked attention and 
accompanied her home from the reception. 
After they left the Urdine residence, Dolores 
remarked, 

“ Mr. Mannington, do you know where that 
Mr. Norfleet is from?” 

“Yes, I think he is originally from Massa- 
chusetts. Used to be in the banking business 
in New York, and is at the present time, I be- 
lieve, a stockholder in various banks throughout 
the country. He is president and cashier in one 
in some town nearby, I forgot just where. Are 
you smitten with his handsome face?” 

“ No, but I admire him very much. He cer- 
tainly has excellent manners and knows how to 
treat a lady and I say, unhesitatingly, I have 
never before seen such handsome features. He 
is attractive, interesting and fascinating.” 

“ The admiration was mutual I assure you, for 
those detestable black eyes of his never left 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 267 


you for one minute from the time you were in- 
troduced.” 

“ Mr. Mannington, that is very unkind. Why 
should you speak so of a stranger? The man’s 
eyes are beautiful, but he gave me no more at- 
tention than other girls, and even if it were 
true, I fail to understand why you should be of- 
fended.” 

“ Dolores Hegmeyher, do you mean to tell me 
you have never suspected the depth of my regard 
for you? I am jealous, I do not deny it. How 
could I be otherwise — I who have loved and 
sighed for you night and day since first we met. 
Before that day I was a free man. Since then 
I have been your slave. I once admired other 
girls. Now, you are the one woman on earth or 
in heaven I could ever love. I have thought of 
you every second during the day until I was al- 
most mad, and at night my dreams are all of 
you. I have pictured you as my wife the queen 
of my happy home, again and again, until it 
seemed real. While you were visiting the Nobles, 
I would sometimes feel insanely jealous of Rev. 
Vandergast. And again your manner was so 
free and open with him that I realized it was 
only the friendship of school days, and I would 
then love him for your sake. I have longed to tell 
you of my devotion, but you gave me no encour- 
agement — nothing to assure me that I would be 
accepted. Fearing the worst, I remained silent, 
but to-day when I saw Horace Norfleet, the 
handsome millionaire banker, enamored with 
you I beheld a look in your eyes different from 
that you give me and others and I thought I 


268 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


should surely die. Dolores, I am not so hand- 
some as Norfleet, nor have I millions to offer you, 
but I own a good business and enough money to 
keep you comfortably as long as you live. I love 
you more than he is capable of loving and will 
spend every minute of my life trying to make you 
happy. Will you be my wife? ” 

They had reached the steps of the little cottage 
where she resided. The girl stood with downcast 
eyes. He could see by the moonlight the tears as 
they fell unchecked from her lashes. She took 
his hand and said, 

“ Kennard, come let us go into the summer 
house where we can talk unobserved.” 

Neither of them spoke another word until 
they were seated. Turning those pitiful, tear- 
stained eyes to him she continued, “ Oh, Kennard, 
I was rightly named Dolores, (sorrowful, pain- 
ful) I was indeed born for trouble under the 
shadow of a curse, and it is contagious, spreading 
abroad infecting and contaminating all with 
whom I come in contact. I am an evil omen. 
You are better off without me. I try so hard 
to be good, true, noble, but for some reason my 
friends must all suffer like myself. I would 
not wilfully give pain to any one — I know too 
well what it means myself. But my love and 
friendship seems to bring its sting alike to all. 
I am your true, loyal friend. You have no better. 
But, believe me, Kennard I did not even suspect 
that you loved me. You were always vivacious, 
jolly, full of merriment, good cheer, and I liked 
you very much, believing it a mutually-under- 
stood friendship. It never dawned on my mind 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 269 

that you might entertain any deeper regard for 
me than that of a sincere friend. It causes me 
greater pain than you know. I am not a flirt, nor 
do I trifle with the hearts of men. You neither 
said or did anything to cause me to believe you 
loved me. Had I known it, for your sake I 
would have avoided your company. Tell me 
truly, Kennard, have I ever done anything to 
make you believe I could ever become more to 
you than I now am ? ” 

“ Oh, no, no, I was a fool to think one like you 
could love me.” 

“ No, Kennard, you were not ; I am proud of 
your regard, and grieved that I cannot return 
it, but it is impossible. I can nevertmarr^ you. 
It is probable I shall never wed any man — in 
fact, I do not expect to. My first duty in life is 
to mother, but, Kennard, if I am ever i free 
from the care of a home I am promised to wed 
another.” 

“ Tell me, Dolores, do you love the other man 
or do you love Horace Norfleet?” 

Her face flushed crimson as she replied, 

“ How can you ask me such a question ? Cer- 
tainly, I love him, and as for Mr. Norfleet, how 
could I care for a man I have only met to-day? ” 
“ Ah, Dolores, I learned to love you in less 
time than that. But I shall never forget that 
love until eternity. I shall marry no woman 
while you remain Miss Dolores Emerald Heg- 
meyher. May I still claim your friendship and 
visit you as I have always done? Will you help 
me to be a man ? ” 

“ Kennard, do you think it best? ” 


270 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ Yes, I do.” 

“ And promise to treat you just as I have 
previous to this conversation ? ” 

“ Please do not withhold your friendship too.*' 

“ Yes, Kennard, I shall be your friend forever. 
But remember I can never be more.” 

“ Thank you, Dolores, it is not probable that 
I shall soon forget it. Good-night, my best 
friend ! ” He pressed her hand and walked 
slowly away. 

The moonlight glimmering through the vine- 
covered summer house revealed a young girl, 
clad in evening gown, reverently kneeling by the 
rustic seat with her hands tightly clasped and the 
sad, pale face upturned heavenward while her 
lips moved in audible supplication. After some 
minutes she arose and silently entered the house. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 
love’s awakening. 

The next night Dolores was at her post of 
duty at eight o’clock as usual. The calls were 
slack and she was making out bills ready for col- 
lection the next day, but her mind wandered 
in various channels. Vainly she tried to con- 
centrate her thoughts, and after destroying three 
or four badly-written pages she laid her pen 
down in disgust. “ Oh, what is the use ? Why 
will working girls like myself persist in thinking 
of things aside from their employment and home 
duties? I am perfectly happy with mother and 
brother and why will people bother me and make 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 271 

me so perfectly miserable. I surely have enough 
sorrow of my own, without being burdened with 
others. Why are the boys not satisfied with sin- 
cere friendship, all I can possibly give, instead 
of urging me to marry, when I do not love them 
and dare not wed if I did. I shall never leave 
mother, that is certain, for she did not desert me 
when I was helpless. I shall never wed a man 
I do not love. Ezell is dearer to me than any of 
the rest, I believe. Yes, I suppose I think as 
much of him as I am capable of loving, but it is 
not that sacred love I have always believed a 
woman should give her husband. Kennard has 
been so kind to me, and I have enjoyed his friend- 
ship very much. I believed him a whole-souled, 
good-hearted, hale fellow well met, and never 
suspected he was grieving his heart away about 
me. Now, I shall have to be so reserved with him 
in the future and to think he is jealous of that 
stranger, Mr. Norfleet, just because the gentle- 
man treated me with civil politeness! What 
would that handsome millionaire want with me? 
How perfectly ludicrous! Or, in fact, why do 
any of them want me. I am neither pretty, attrac- 
tive, clever, good, interesting or gentle — am, in- 
stead, resentful, determined, plain and almost 
homely, a poor girl burdened with debt, and a 
disgraced name, a drunkard’s daughter, and the 
pitiable leavings of broken-down aristocracy. Mr. 
Norfleet is a man capable of winning the choice 
of the land, such as beautiful mother was when 
a girl, or pretty Louise Martinez, the college 
belle. How I would like to see her. Ezell 
told me she married a man of great wealth soon 


272 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

after she graduated, went abroad, and was living 
in England or France the last time he heard of 
her. Dearest Louise, how I love her! She will 
dazzle and honor the courts of London and 
Paris. No one was ever more deserving than 
she. But Mr. Norfleet would only pity a poor 
girl such as I. Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher 
would rather die than accept a man’s pity. No, 
no, her pride would never permit that. Her 
friends must respect her for herself, and treat 
her as their equal. True, she had been slighted, 
reproached and even laughed at by girls who had 
once been proud to be numbered among her 
friends. Even some of her own relatives had 
treated her with contempt. That was another of 
the world’s unjust customs brought about by the 
most dire, unfounded, unreasonable false pride 
and ignorance, but this of itself did not grieve 
Dolores. She had done nothing to merit such 
treatment or to be ashamed of, and those who 
chose to condemn or insult her for the sins of 
the parent were not her equal, nor were they de- 
serving and worthy of the love and true friend- 
ship of any sincere loyal-hearted girl. People of 
genuine character and real worth loved and ad- 
mired this girl for the devotion she lavished on 
her mother and the firm stand she took for the 
right. The friends of Dolores Hegmeyher were 
tried and true, not those seeking glare of gold and 
worldly influence. Many early acquaintances had 
been weighed in the balance and found wanting. 
She sat thus musing when the door opened and 
standing before her was the handsome man she 
had met at the reception only the night before. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 273 

The color came to the girl’s cheeks but she showed 
no signs of recognition. 

Probably Dolores Hegmeyher, the telephone 
operator, and Miss Hegmeyher, the guest at the 
magnificent reception given in the home of Judge 
Urdine, would appear as two distinctly separate 
persons in the eyes of Horace Norfleet, the 
millionaire banker. He, at least, should be first 
to recall their brief acquaintance.” 

“ Is there anything I can do for you, sir? ” 
The man was rapidly turning through some 
memoranda he had taken from his purse and did 
not look up as he replied : 

“ Yes, I want to get a party in Pittsburg. The 
’phone at the Hotel De Young is out of order and 
I thought it best to come to the central office. 
This is the address of the firm I want,” and, ad- 
vancing to the desk, he produced a piece of paper. 
But when he beheld the operator he gave a sud- 
den start and drew back. The paper fluttered 
in the air falling to the floor as a look of recog- 
nition came into his face. Dolores stooped and 
picked the slip up, reading it aloud in an indiffer- 
ent manner. Finally, regaining his equipoise, he 
extended his hand, saying, 

“ This much desired, yet unexpected, surprise 
gives me inexpressible pleasure, this evening — 
thanks indeed to the bad condition of the hotel 
’phone, that drove me to the central office to 
secure better service, and may I hope the message 
may be long getting through to Pittsburg. And 
I may have the extreme pleasure of waiting here 
with you.” 

She responded very politely, 


274 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“ It will take but a short time to get your party. 
The office remains open until ten o’clock. After 
that hour, all patrons must talk from the hotels 
or other pay stations.” 

“ Would you not allow me to remain a little 
longer, if necessary ? ” 

“ No, Mr. Norfleet, this is strictly a place of 
business and I carefully obey and execute all 
rules of the company.” 

“ Are friends not excepted? ” 

“ I am employed here, sir, to serve the public, 
and have little leisure, and cultivate but few 
friends and they are not permitted to interfere 
with duty and propriety.” 

She proceeded to make a note of his call and to 
secure his party in a professional way. The man 
sat quietly watching her, volunteering no re- 
marks. After sending his message and paying 
the charges, he said, 

“ Miss Hegmeyher, you tell me you cultivate 
the friendship of but few. May I beg the honor 
of being included in that select number, and as 
such may I have the pleasure of your company 
to the theatre to-morrow night ? ” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Norfleet, for your proffered 
friendship, but I find it necessary to decline your 
invitation to attend the theatre, and regret to 
say I am not a girl of leisure, privileged to go 
and come as I choose. Instead, I am a laboring 
girl with many grave responsibilities, and spare 
little time to personal pleasure and amusement. 
I attended the reception at Judge Urdine’s be- 
cause Ceres was making her debut and we have 
been friends since childhood. In other words, I 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 275 


went for “ Auld Lang Syne,” but mother and 
home require first place in my life. Church and 
philanthropy second, and self only third. There- 
fore, I have little time left for gaiety and social 
affairs. I am not the girl of society you possibly 
took me for when first we met. I belong to the 
masses, occupying the humble position of a work- 
ing girl, and to my name is added the honorable 
title and prefix ‘ Telephone Operator and Collec- 
tor.’ As such, I am both happy and content, nor 
do I feel myself either disgraced or abased by 
thus earning a livelihood for myself and beautiful 
mother. Labor of all kind is honorable when ac- 
companied by character and principle, and greatly 
to be preferred to ignorance, indolence and in- 
significance, which generally go hand in hand. 
Without principal and character there can be no 
honor not even in the palace of a king.” 

“ No, Miss Hegmeyher, when I first met you 
I did not for one minute take you for the ordi- 
nary, frivolous, silly society girl, to be admired 
alone for a pretty, painted, powdered face and 
gaudy, perishable feathers. Nor do I now class 
you with the ordinary working girl, pleased and 
delighted by meaningless compliments from un- 
principled men, but I do admire your grace, 
manners, proud carriage, strong features, intel- 
lect, wisdom, justice, sincerity, firmness, appro- 
bativeness, conscientiousness, mirth, and in short 
actual good common sense — all so seldom found 
in one person — and shall consider myself greatly 
honored to be termed a friend to a lady of 
your type. I am far from perfect, but I do 
try to be a gentleman, to respect a lady and be- 


276 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

lieve all people socially equal who conduct them- 
selves properly. May I call at your home oc- 
casionally ? ” 

“ Certainly, if you like.” 

“ Then I shall be included among your 
friends.” 

“ Yes, if you so desire.” 

“ Well, I truly wish it, and shall be on hand 
soon. If I overstep the boundary lines and 
come too frequently, you will have to put up a 
sign. ‘ Keep off the grass.' I see I have reached 
your time limit, ten o’clock ; and must bid you a 
sincere good-night, hoping to see you often ! ” 
Clasping her hand he gave her one deep, earnest 
look, sending a thrill to the depths of her soul. 

After he had descended the stairs, Dolores 
arose, closed and locked all doors, carefully draw- 
ing the window shades, then seating herself in 
the big office chair she rested her elbows on the 
desk before her, shading with those shapely 
hands her pale, wan face from which every 
vestige of color had suddenly faded away. Ah, 
it had come at last ! She could no longer doubt, 
yet dared not admit it. That which she had 
long believed herself incapable of feeling had 
entered her heart as a thief in the night. She 
knew not just how, when or where, but it was 
there. She loved Horace Norfleet with true, 
pure, undefiled adoration, such as a girl of her 
sincere temperament is alone capable of lavishing 
on the idol of her life. Yes, she at last under- 
stood and felt the deep, sacred, unchangeable 
love such as her mother and cousin Nell pos- 
sessed. She would give her very life if neces- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 277 

sary for this man. Such eyes, hair, smile, pure 
life and soul as he possessed. Oh, if she could 
only become his wife! the shadow would indeed 
be lifted, leaving nothing but glorious sunshine, 
joy and happiness forever. He was her life, her 
world, her all. That new-found love was a well 
springing up into one clear, crystal, bubbling 
fountain, never again to cease flowing on and 
on, cheering, brightening and sustaining life un- 
til eternity. Yes, she loved this man and saw 
shining from his earnest eyes the answer that 
words had not yet expressed. Her regard was 
reciprocated. The restless, stirring fountain of 
love was mutual. But, alas, the sweet was 
mixed with the bitter! The crystal waters of 
love were poisoned, contaminated. She dared 
not wed this man and he must never know she 
loved him. Why had she permitted him to 
call? It would only make it harder to give him 
up — to live without him! Must she go to the 
sacred altar and take the marriage vows to 
another whom she now knew she did not love 
and never could? No, Ezell Vandergast was 
not the man she loved and must not be her 
husband, but she had promised to marry him if 
she were ever free to wed any man. Ah, she 
thanked God she was not free, and possibly 
would never be on earth. This would at least 
serve as an excuse to keep from perjuring her- 
self by becoming the bride of a man whom she 
did not love. There was only one honorable 
thing left for her to do — she would avoid the 
company of Horace Norfleet — thus keeping him 
in ignorance of her regard and spend her entire 


278 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

life making good the wrongs of her family. 
Nor would she ever marry. In this way Ezell 
need never know she loved another. She had 
given him no definite promises as to when they 
should wed. In fact she had told him it would 
probably take her a lifetime to accomplish all 
required of her. Now, it must be so. She 
would put her own love in the background, her 
mother should never know of the pain her 
daughter endured. “ Dolores Emerald Hegmey- 
her shall never be called a weakling or a coward 
for grieving her mother.” She would be sus- 
tained by God’s everlasting arms. He would 
never leave her alone, and falling to her knees 
this tortured, tried soul sent a message to the 
God of infinite love for protection and guidance. 
When she arose it was with a firm determina- 
tion to live henceforth for God, mother and 
right. 

Horace Norfleet walked slowly from the tele- 
phone exchange to the Hotel De Young and 
retired immediately to his departments, but not 
to sleep. He sat until the wee, small hours of 
the night, thinking of the girl he had just left. 
How different from those he had been associated 
with, throughout his entire life! When playing 
the role of society she appeared distinctly un- 
like the other ladies of the assembly, so ab- 
solutely superior in grace, manner, pose and 
dignity. Yet there was that gentle, tender, sym- 
pathetic expression one never forgets. She was 
not beautiful — no, not even pretty — as the style 
of pretty baby faces go. But there was that 
sublime something about her that distinguished 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 279 

her from all others of the company. He had 
asked no questions after the reception at Judge 
Urdine’s, but just naturally inferred or supposed 
her a girl of great wealth and fine lineage belong- 
ing to the exclusive elite of society, and as such 
he had pictured her in all his thoughts and 
dreams during the past day and night. Yes, her 
face loomed up before his vivid imagination 
continuously. It was of her he was thinking to- 
night when he entered the telephone exchange to 
send a message stating he could not keep his en- 
gagement the next day, and the true reason for 
this sudden decision was to learn something of 
the girl whose face haunted him and if possible 
to see her again. Yes, he had entered the cen- 
tral office dreaming that he should soon behold 
his idol as she dwelt in a mansion or palace sur- 
rounded by wealth, luxury and magnificence, 
with a princely father and angelic mother lavish- 
ing all their parental devotion upon this, their 
idolized child. But his pleasant, serene reverie 
received a sudden shock, when he beheld the 
girl of his fancy, carefully executing the duties 
of a telephone operator. His first impression 
was one of horror and surprise. How did it all 
come about? Why was this girl working? Per- 
haps it was one of her eccentric little notions to 
mix with the masses and better understand 
humanity. Thus she would be in possession of 
actual facts and better capacitated to follow up 
some special lines of philanthropic work she had 
undertaken. But when he approached her in the 
manner of a friend she had politely repulsed 
him, frankly explaining that she was a girl of 


280 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


poverty, burden and numerous responsibilities, 
earning a livelihood for herself and mother. 
There was no look of shame or humility in those 
sad, earnest eyes as she made this confession, but 
instead, an expression of noble pride gleamed 
from their fathomless depths as she said, “ I am 
a laboring girl and belong to the masses. Nor 
do I feel myself disgraced by thus earning a 
livelihood for myself and mother. All labor is 
honorable when accompanied by character and 
principle, but without those no life can truly be 
honorable though they live in the palace of a 
king. My first thoughts are for mother and 
home; second for church and philanthropy, and 
third and last for society and personal pleasure. 
Thus I have little time left for self.” 

And in this way she had politely declined to 
accept him as an escort to the theatre. Ladies 
of wealth, title, fame and influence considered 
themselves fortunate in securing the friendship 
of this man, seeking to fascinate him and win 
his homage. But, Dolores Hegmeyher, the tele- 
phone operator and collector, as she proudly 
termed herself, was different. She had trans- 
acted all necessary business with the accurate 
alertness and care of an experienced financier, 
and with respectful but firm words dismissed 
him from the office at the required hour, ten 
o'clock, with as much dignity as a queen of the 
royal court could have done. Yes, this brilliant 
girl was poor in worldly possessions, but she 
possessed such intellect, character and soul as a 
woman of renown would have gladly given a 
fortune to claim as their own. Did the humble 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 281 


position occupied by Dolores Hegmeyher dimin- 
ish the regards of Horace Norfleet for her? No. 
The gentle, graceful manner of this girl as she 
performed her duty at this public switchboard 
only served to enhance and prove her real value, 
giving dignity to the profession of honorable 
laboring girls of the world. He admired her 
more than ever before. She was not afraid to 
do the right, even though it be to perform the 
most menial service. There was none of that 
false, ignorant pride that is so often accompanied 
by a fall, and, while thus occupied, she did not 
consider herself the inferior of any one. But 
she did feel exalted above the fashionable little 
society belle, who requires all of the earnings of 
a poor, hard-working father to purchase gaudy 
gowns to bedeck her heartless form and enhance 
the beauty of her pretty, little, inexpressive, 
meaningless, pink and white face mostly com- 
posed of cosmetics, and returns home at a late 
hour, remaining in bed until ten or eleven o’clock 
the next morning, expecting the poor, old, feeble 
mother to serve her with a nice warm break- 
fast; then sits around playing the piano, paint- 
ing or rather daubing, doing a little fancy work 
or playing a game of solitaire and gossiping over 
the ’phone to the boys while the heart-broken 
old mother sweeps, dusts, cooks, scrubs, washes 
dishes and performs the drudgery of the house- 
hold instead of the daughter assisting her; but, 
no — those dainty little hands must not be soiled, 
even though the dear, old mother should die 
of overwork and neglect. Yes, thank God, 
Dolores Hegmeyher was far superior to such 


282 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


girls as this. But it is a shame on womanhood 
that thousands of just such girls as this exist in 
this world to-day. Horace Norfleet sat musing 
about the various girls of his acquaintance, com- 
paring them with this one, his ideal of woman- 
kind. What a part of human perfection the wo- 
man must be who had, ’mid difficulties and deep 
privations, reared such a daughter. She must 
have been the queen of motherhood. Yes, Do- 
lores Hegmeyher was the only woman he had 
really and truly ever loved. No other could be 
compared with her. True, he had pretended and 
even believed at times that he cared for another, 
but it was only a beautiful face that had at- 
tracted and fascinated him for a period — only a 
passing fancy, leaving its blight and some dark, 
unpleasant memories, now that he had met the 
one alone capable of making him happy. What 
should he do ? He would first win her heart and 
marry her. Whether it be accomplished by foul 
means or fair, she must be his wife. Horace 
Norfleet was a man who had never been defeated 
in any of his undertakings, either in business or 
social pursuits, and had no conscientious scruples 
about love affairs when it affected his own future. 
From earliest youth he had been permitted to 
choose the things most desirable or appealing to 
his fancy with the privilege of rejecting them at 
will when they became irksome or uninteresting, 
lacking sufficient diversion and amusement. He 
greatly admired honor and stability of character 
in others, but failed to infuse much of this es- 
teemed justice into his own life, often causing 
deep sorrow, agony and sometimes disgrace. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 283 


Now his one ambition in life was to win and 
wed charming Dolores. He must first secure 
her confidence and love. He had no reason to 
believe he was even admired. In fact she had 
given him to understand his friendship was un- 
desirable but, after some persuasion, had granted 
him the privilege of calling at her home. Yes, 
he must use some discretion in this case, and not 
make the calls too frequent, thus causing her to 
grow weary of his company. If he would make 
himself specially interesting and agreeable to her 
mother, securing the friendship and approval of 
this beloved parent, she might possibly prove of 
great assistance to him. If Dolores was only an 
ordinary poor girl his wealth might be some in- 
ducement, but not to her. That girl would never 
sacrifice herself for gold. She preferred char- 
acter to worldly lusts and that was something 
he could not truthfully boast of. He was no 
example of propriety. However he must act the 
part. Yes, he would be a moral man for a few 
months at least. It would be a novel experience 
for selfish Horace Norfleet. Possibly this girl 
might reform and make a man of him yet. She 
would have a bad piece of clay to model, but if 
any one on earth were capable of transforming 
him into something of genuine worth it would be 
Dolores Hegmeyher. If she were his wife, their 
happiness would be complete. He would love, 
adore, idolize her and never deceive by word, 
look or deed. This the purest of earthly crea- 
tures, and while he was thus wooing Dolores he 
must secretly remove all obstacles that might 
hinder their marriage, causing disagreeable com- 


284 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


plications to arise. She must never know of the 
skeleton in his closet — the secret of his life. No, 
the work must be guarded with every precaution. 
But his confidants would not betray him. He 
could rely on his brother in New York and sister 
in Massachusetts to assist him. They would be 
glad of his decision. Everything would come out 
all right. He was safe. Horace Norfleet would 
win as he had in all previous conflicts. After 
arriving at a final decision in his unscrupulous 
mind, he retired and slept soundly. 

Dolores Hegmeyher went about in the home 
with the same loving smile and gay joyful de- 
meanor. Not even the shrewd penetrating eyes 
of that wise mother who had taught her little feet 
to walk and her little prattling tongue to lisp her 
evening prayer could penetrate the sealed recesses 
of her aching heart. She had closed it forever 
from the world. God alone was permitted to 
enter and sanctify that holy love for the better- 
ment of humanity. She was a better, truer, 
purer, more loyal and sympathetic girl for having 
thus loved. Horace Norfleet called frequently 
and was treated with respect and civil politeness, 
fiut she never accepted his invitation to accom- 
pany him to places of amusement and carefully 
avoided being left alone in his company. He 
appeared unconscious of the fact that he was 
greeted with marked indifference and at times 
sought Mrs. Hegmeyher’s society, seemingly in 
preference to the younger people, remarking 
that he had always been very fond of persons 
older than himself and greatly appreciated their 
counsel as they were wiser and more capable of 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 285 

giving valuable advice. “ And, pardon me for 
being personal, but I say truthfully, Miss Heg- 
meyher, that I have never before met a lady with 
such charming personality as your beautiful 
mother and she appears so absolutely uncon- 
scious of her attractions.” 

“ Yes, thank you, Mr. Norfleet, I appreciate 
your compliment to mother, and all you say of 
her is quite true. To know her is to love her. 
And only those who know mamma best are ca- 
pable of estimating her real value. All brother 
and I are, and ever shall be we owe to the train- 
ing and wisdom of our precious, sacrificing 
mother. I am glad you like her and take pleas- 
ure in her company. Only yesterday she re- 
marked that you were an exceedingly clever, in- 
teresting youth, and she preferred you to any 
other of my gentlemen friends. Call often, Mr. 
Norfleet, even if I am not here. You cheer and 
brighten her life by recalling memories of hap- 
pier, more prosperous days, and, dear soul, she 
lives such a lonely, secluded life. How thought- 
ful of you to bring those beautiful roses to her 
to-day. I appreciate them a thousand times 
more than if they had been for me. Others seem 
to forget and neglect dear mamma but you never 
do.” 

She gave a little sigh that did not escape the 
alert ear of Horace Norfleet. And, looking into 
those serious eyes, he said, 

“ I am glad you were pleased with my little 
token of regard to your mother and glad to have 
made her happy for I love her as my own mother, 
whom I lost when but a child. Had she lived I 


286 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


might have been a different man. I am glad to 
learn she prefers me to your other friends, and 
shall wait for the day when I shall be your 
choice also. Tell me truthfully, Dolores, have I 
anything to hope for? Will you ever be my 
wife? ” 

She turned her face from him and gasped, 
“ No, Horace, never. I shall wed no man. 
Mine is a life of duty.” 

“ Then am I mistaken, do you not love me ? 
Are my dreams all vain? Two or three times I 
have fancied I saw lurking in those eyes an an- 
swer to the yearnings of my heart and soul. 
Was I mistaken — was there no love there?” 

“ Horace, I regret to give you pain but it is 
better that we part. I can never marry you ; 
that should be sufficient to answer your other 
questions.” 

“ May I still visit your mother?” 

“ Certainly, if you choose. And I shall al- 
ways be glad to see you. But remember we 
can never be more than friends.” 

“ Ah, dearest Dolores, that is even more than 
I deserve. And I shall try to be content.” 

He soon left her and drove away, with a 
smile of self-content and satisfaction playing 
about those haughty lips, saying to himself : 

“ Ah, everything is working out all right. 
She dare not say she did not love me. She is 
too conscientious to lie about it. Something 
holds her back. I can’t tell just what it is, but 
things are coming my way as usual. Lucky 
chap Norfleet! You have the lovely old lady 
on your side and that means the fiercest part of 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 287 

the struggle. Dolores would not refuse her 
mother anything. She would sacrifice her very 
life if that mother desired it. How like her she 
is — not so beautiful — a little more fiery, self- 
willed and determined, but the very soul of 
goodness and truth. It will only require a little 
patience, many lies, plenty of deception, and 
she will soon be mine. No defeat for Horace 
Norfleet. What he wants he always gets ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


SUMMONED TO THE DEATH OF HER LOVER. 


One evening Mrs. Hegmeyher and daughter 
were sitting on the veranda, chatting and sewing 
when a messenger boy approached them with a 
telegram addressed to Miss Dolores Emerald 
Hegmeyher. She opened it and read these 
words, 


“ Rev. Vandergast dying; asks for you. Come 
quickly. 

(Signed) 

Robert Noble." 


She calmly arose as she said, “ Mother, it is 
from cousin Robert, my old friend and school- 
mate. Rev. Ezell Vandergast is quite ill and 
wishes to see me, I shall take the 5:15 accommo- 
dation, if you do not object." 

“ Certainly, daughter, you have my permission. 


288 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


Shall I 'phone for the substitute to take your 
place in the office ? ” 

“ Yes, mother, if you please, for I shall have 
to hasten if I go on that train." 

Dolores was met by her cousin and went di- 
rect to the parsonage where the young divine 
lay. They were greeted by the physician who 
told them he was evidently dying — could not last 
many minutes. He had asked repeatedly if she 
was coming and, after being informed that she 
was on her way, said, “ I shall live to see her. 
God will spare me." Dolores noiselessly entered 
the room and the nurse withdrew, closing the 
door behind her. Kneeling by the bedside, she 
gently smoothed the black locks from his fore- 
head and tears glistened on her lashes as she 
said, “ Ezell it is I, Dolores — do you know me? " 

He clasped her hand with his cold trembling 
fingers as he replied, 

“ Do I know you, darling? Could I ever for- 
get, even in eternity, that sweet voice, that gentle 
touch? I cannot see your dear face — my vision 
is no longer of earth, but all is bright beyond the 
vale. I had hoped mine eyes might once more 
behold you in the material state, but it was not 
God's will. Nor did he will that you should 
ever be my wife. The Bible tells us that ‘ in 
heaven we shall neither be married or given in 
marriage.’ But, darling, you were the instrument 
chosen of God to lead me to the throne of divine 
grace, there to find peace and comfort in the 
promise of a loving Redeemer. It was through 
your influence by your daily, Christian living 
while in college that I was brought to realize the 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 289 

utter void condition of a worldly wasted earthly 
existence, and to live each day prepared to an- 
swer the summons, ‘ come up higher/ and dearest 
one in a few minutes I shall answer that call, 
and go to live with the redeemed in heaven. 
But you have made me so happy with your love, 
won’t you kiss me, and whisper that you still love 
me?” 

Stooping, she gently obeyed and hot tears fell 
on his face as she said, “ I am glad, oh, so glad, 
dear Ezell, that I have made your last days on 
earth happy.” 

“ Yes, darling, happier than you can ever 
know. I have loved you as never man loved 
before. Since you promised to sometime be 
mine I have seen your dear face ever before me 
during my sermons, in company, walking the 
streets, in my private study and in my dreams 
at night you were always with me. Now, my 
dear, I shall soon leave you. In heaven with 
Jesus I shall still be happy. Do not grieve for 
me but rather rejoice. Praise God for his good- 
ness to sinful man, and continue in your good 
work. Help to save others from lives of sin. 
You are so young. I do not wish your youthful 
life blighted. If you ever feel free and can love 
some worthy man marry him, darling, and make 
him happy as you would have made me, and as 
I even now am with your love. Kiss me again, 
dear, I am going. Lift me up and hold me in 
your arms until Jesus takes me.” 

She gently raised him, leaning his head on her 
breast and kissed the pallid brow again and again. 
He opened those large black eyes and smiling 


290 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 

said my sight has returned. I see you once 
more. Thank God! Good-bye-my-love-I-shaU- 
meet-you-again-where-parting-is-no-more. Fare- 
well — Farewell ! The eyes closed, his breath 
ceased, and Rev. Ezell Vandergast was asleep in 
Jesus. He had gone to live with God. The next 
day when that noble youth was laid to rest, sit- 
ting in the cab by the side of his gray-haired 
mother was Dolores Hegmeyher, clad in a plain 
gown of black. 

When she returned from the funeral to the 
home of her cousin, the girl was very nervous, 
and retired for an hour’s rest before dinner. But 
sleep had flown and she lay with her eyes closed, 
thinking of what had occurred. Noble Ezell! 
How he had loved her ! Now, he was gone for- 
ever. She had liked him — yes, loved him almost 
as a brother — but not even in the hour of death 
did she feel that deep, sacred regard, that yearn- 
ing, agonizing love she felt for Horace Norfleet. 
She had pitied him, sympathized with him, re- 
spected him and even sacrificed her future pros- 
pects that he might be happy. She would have 
kept the promise so rashly made ’ere she knew 
true love — would have died at the post of duty 
rather than have him know the truth or become 
unhappy. His death caused her deep sorrow 
like that of a dear friend or relative, but it had 
also brought to the girl her freedom to love and 
wed the one man her heart pleaded for. Yes, 
Ezell, had correctly spoken. God did not mean 
that they should wed. Oh, how glad she was that 
she had made his last days on earth happy. And 
she had bravely borne it all alone. Dolores was 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 291 

not afraid to tell her secrets to that dear mother, 
and had always freely sought her counsel on sub- 
jects that would not cause her pain, but she had 
already endured too much for her family and 
this devoted daughter must shield her from 
future sorrow. It would have grieved her to 
have known that this child was plighted to a 
man that she did not love. As it would have 
also given her deep anguish had she realized 
that her daughter was sacrificing happiness, 
love, husband and home, to care and provide for 
mother. No, that beloved parent should never 
know she had ever thought of marrying, or 
that she loved any one on earth but the queen of 
mothers, Lillian Constance Waud Hegmeyher. 
After dinner, Dolores had a long conversation 
with the Nobles and explained how she and 
Rev. Vandergast had been engaged many 
months, but that she would not leave her mother 
to wed any man, and for her dear sake they 
had carefully concealed their secret. Now that 
he was gone it might give mother great pain to 
think the marriage had been deferred until too 
late. Thus, she believed it wise to never reveal 
it to her and asked her cousins to please never 
speak of him as anything but a friend and 
schoolmate in the presence of that beloved 
parent whom she had repeatedly vowed to love 
and protect throughout the remainder of her 
life. 

“ Remember, cousin,” she said, “ Eric expects 
to soon marry and I am all she will have left as 
her very own. I shall shield her dear life from 
sorrow as she did mine ’ere I came to years of 


292 THE SHADOW OF. A CURSE, 


accountability. I cannot give her wealth such 
as she once had, nor can I give her back her lov- 
ing husband, but I can keep from her life fresh 
sorrow and try to cheer her last days with kind- 
ness and love.” 

Kennard Mannington acted as pall bearer for 
Rev. Vandergast and learned for the first time 
when he beheld Dolores, gowned in black, help- 
ing to sustain that grief-stricken mother, who 
had been his rival for the hand of the one he 
loved. Now that the minister was gone he 
might possibly, sometime win her, but he must 
use discretion and after waiting a proper length 
of time would proceed with his suit again in a 
cautious manner. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE MARRIAGE OF ERIC CASSIL HEGMEYHER. 

Mrs. Hegmeyher could not refrain from 
meditating and thinking seriously of her daugh- 
ter while she was gone. Could it be possible 
that Dolores was in love with this young min- 
ister and would return to her a broken-hearted 
woman. This girl was not one to deeply love 
many men, and if he were really her choice she 
would possibly never marry. Strange that she 
had never suspected anything between them! 
But they had never acted as lovers, only college 
friends, and, too, it seemed impossible that Do- 
lores would ever think of marrying, or of lov- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 293 

ing any one but her. Eric expected to be 
married soon, and, if Dolores should leave her, 
lonely indeed must be the remainder of her life. 
Oh, that she might die ’ere that blow should 
befall her! Then again she would think it sel- 
fish in her to feel thus. She should be glad to 
see them both happily settled in life. She had 
given her consent to Eric’s marriage, and if 
called upon must do likewise with Dolores. 
She knew of but one man she would gladly 
give her to and feel by so doing she would 
not lose a daughter but gain a true, loving son. 
Yes, she would be happy, absolutely happy to 
see this daughter the wife of Horace Norfleet. 
There was no doubt in her mind that he adored 
Dolores, but she had actually treated him with 
indifference. Strange that a girl would not 
care for such as he! Yes, if Dolores should 
choose to marry young Norfleet she would by 
so doing delight the heart of this faithful 
mother. 

When she returned home that wise mother 
talked in gentle terms of the sad death of the 
promising youthful divine, and carefully 
watched the effects of her tender complimentary 
remarks on her daughter. But there was no 
secret revealed in that frank open face as she 
replied, 

“ Yes, mamma, it was certainly sad to see 
a man of such marked capabilities and intellect 
cut down ’ere he had reached the prime of life. 
My heart ached for his dear old widowed 
mother, for he was her only son and she had 
high aspirations for his future. But God knows 


294 THE SHADOW OF, A CURSE, 

best. Ezell was very kind to me while in col- 
lege and as a friend I have always liked him 
very much.” 

Mrs. Hegmeyher noticed that her .daughter 
accented on the word friend and was assured 
that her fears had all been without foundation. 
Each day she carefully attended to her usual 
routine of duties, giving no evidence of the try- 
ing ordeal she had recently passed through. 

Eric Hegmeyher and wife, nee Cecelia 
Remalia arrived home from the North — she, a 
bright, interesting, pretty young lady of the 
brunette type. The mother and sifter were both 
very fond of her, extending her a hearty wel- 
come to the little home. Life was very pleas- 
antly spent in the cottage on the hill until Eric 
was one day brought home delirious with a rag- 
ing fever which developed into a severe case of 
typhoid and pneumonia with other complica- 
tions. Days and weeks he lay suspended in the 
balance between life and death. The attending 
physician almost despaired of his recovery, 
while the faithful little wife, mother and sister 
carefully watched alternately, at his bedside, and 
with deft, loving hands administered to his 
wants. For three long months it seemed im- 
possible that he could ever recover. But youth, 
vitality and will power, together with a good 
physician and God’s mercy finally broke the 
chains of disease and gave him back once more 
to his loved ones, a well man. The struggle for 
life and health had been long and fierce, as was 
also the battle for maintenance in a material 
sense. The pitiable little twenty-six dollars per 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 295 

month received by Dolores for the hard labor 
performed in the central office, working the en- 
tire night, and trying to assist with her brother 
and household duties throughout the day was 
their only revenue and means of livelihood. 
Debts unavoidable arose on every side. Twenty- 
six dollars was not sufficient to keep up grocery, 
meat, dry goods, drug bills and doctor expenses, 
together with many old debts staring them in 
the face, and with the home already mortgaged. 
Secretly Dolores tried to battle with the cred- 
itors, paying a dollar one place and two or 
three another, vainly attempting to hold them 
off as she pleaded for just a little time, only a 
short leniency for the sake of the suffering 
brother, young wife and aged mother. If their 
home must go would they not wait until Eric 
was strong, and they could sell it at least for 
partial value. God and this girl alone knew the 
battle she had to fight to secure the necessary 
provisions for the family, and keep their pecu- 
niary condition a secret, thus avoiding the pain 
and worry it would bring to those at home 
while they were utterly helpless to correct it. 
Yes, the meager pittance received by this hard- 
working girl was inadequate to keep them clear 
of debt, and they sank deeply into the mire of 
insolvency. The physician advised the invalid 
youth to go to the country for his health and, 
as soon as he was strong enough to endure the 
journey, Eric Hegmeyher and wife went away 
for a few weeks’ visit. Dolores carefully 
avoided any mention of finances, and presented 
a cheerful glowing face and apparently con- 


296 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

tented frame of mind to the family. But 
secretly she was casting about in her disturbed 
brain how she might make it possible to pull 
through without revealing the true condition of 
affairs. 

One day she sat in the parlor with a maga- 
zine in her hand pretending to read, but instead 
was trying to form in her busy little mind some 
possible way to save their home, when the door- 
bell rang, and she heard her mother say, “ Why, 
Mr. Norfleet, I am glad to see you. Give an 
account of yourself. Where have you been so 
long? ” 

“ Indeed, I will. I have been in the North 
where I was called on important business and 
did not get time to run up before I started. I 
was distressed to learn on my return of Eric’s 
illness, and hastened here to know if I could 
be of any assistance. Here is a little floral 
greeting. Is Dolores in ? ” 

“ Yes, just walk in the parlor.” 

“ Thank you, Mrs. Hegmeyher, but I wish to 
speak to you privately a few minutes.” 

“ Very well, just step into the sitting-room.” 

They entered, closing the door behind them. 
Mrs. Hegmeyher motioned him to a chair and, 
comfortably seating herself, said, 

“ Now, Mr. Norfleet, what do you wish to 
say?” 

Looking straight into her eyes he replied, 
“ Mrs. Hegmeyher, it is almost useless for me 
to tell you what all who know me have long 
ago guessed — my great and inexpressible regard 
for your charming daughter. To say I love her, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 297 

is putting it mildly; I fairly worship and adore 
her. 

I have traveled the world over, and have met 
many ladies of rank, wealth and fame through- 
out the land but she is the only one I could ever 
truly love, and I come to you first seeking your 
permission to woo and wed her. I have at times 
believed she loved me. Then again, she gave 
me reasons to doubt it. But of one thing I am 
convinced — she will never become the wife of 
any man, if she even suspects that you object. 
Do not think in giving Dolores to me you lose 
her. Instead, I shall and do now love you as 
my own mother, I have never really known a 
mother’s love and shall be happy to have one. 
Neither your child nor you shall ever want for 
any luxury. We shall have an elegant home 
together. My entire wealth shall be used to 
make you and dearest Dolores happy. You 
shall neither of you ever again know a care. I 
realize what you are and what you have been 
and all that was once yours that money can 
purchase shall be restored. Believe me, it 
nearly kills me to see her working her precious 
life away, when wealth and happiness is duly 
hers. Do you object to me as a son? Will you 
be my mother? ” 

“ Mr. Norfleet, I realize my child must some- 
time love another beside me, nor would I be 
selfish enough to wish it otherwise. I long to 
see her happy and settled in life. As for my- 
self, I must not be considered. I am growing 
old, and my life will soon be spent. I have 
lived for them, my children. One has preceded 


298 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

me to eternal glory, and after I know the other 
two are settled in life and happy I shall then 
sincerely hope God will call me to rest. I have 
carefully watched you and your behavior since 
you first called at our home as I have all others 
of my daughter’s acquaintances. I have sus- 
pected at times that you loved her, and in every 
way your conduct has been commendable. I 
prefer you to all others as a husband for my 
loyal, beautiful child. She is indeed a gem, a 
rare jewel. You have chosen well, and if she 
loves you I freely give my consent and approval 
to your request. But remember, Mr. Norfleet, 
my wish in the case must not decide the ques- 
tion. Nor do I desire her to wed a man for 
wealth and position. I sincerely hope her life 
partner will be one of unimpeachable character 
and that she may be able to give to him an un- 
divided, undefiled heart of love. And if it be 
God’s will that earthly luxury be added, she 
should be thankful and use it wisely as a sacred 
trust. Believe me, dear boy, wealth improperly 
used is a curse instead of a blessing, and helps 
to destroy many homes. I am convinced it is a 
great responsibility, and God will surely re- 
quire a settlement and account of our steward- 
ship. Now I give to you my hand and permis- 
sion to seek and woo my child’s love, wishing 
you success. Be kind and good to her always 
and I shall gladly welcome you as my son.” 

He kissed the feeble white hand of the beau- 
tiful elderly lady, thanked her, and entered the 
parlor, where Dolores sat seemingly deeply in- 
terested in the magazine she was earnestly scan- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 299 

ning with her eyes, although she had actually not 
turned one leaf of the book since Horace Nor- 
fleet entered the house. 

“ Good-morning, fair lady, have you no word 
of welcome for your old friend who has been 
away several months ? ” 

“Why, Mr. Norfleet is it you? I am very 
glad to see you, and a welcome always awaits 
you in our home. Have you been away long? 
I now recall that we have not seen you for some 
time.” 

“ And have you never thought of or missed 
me before, Dolores? ” 

“ Truthfully, Horace, I have had but little 
time to think of any one but my own home folks 
lately. Have you not heard of Eric’s illness?” 

“ Yes, I learned of it since my return and 
was greatly distressed, but glad to know he is 
now on the road to recovery. Did you receive 
my letter?” 

“ Yes.” 

“And did not reply?” 

“ No, I have written no one for months. I 
could not spare one minute. My time is not 
my own. It belongs to those I love and serve.” 

“ Ah, I see ! Would to God I were included 
among the chosen few.” 

“ Have you seen mamma, Horace ? ” 

“ Yes, we just had a pleasant talk. Dolores, 
will you take a drive with me. The balmy 
country breeze will do you good. The carriage 
waits at the gate.” 

“ Yes, I think I should enjoy it very much.” 

Dolores chatted gaily, appearing happy and 


300 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


free from care, observing and commenting on 
the verdure, flowers, birds and musical brooks. 
But the handsome youth by her side seemed 
grave, serious and thoughtful. They were 
driving through a pleasant, secluded, little shady 
nook where long ferns covered the mossy banks 
mingling their sweet perfume with that of the 
trailing arbutus, wild lilies, and Sweet William. 
Turning to her his earnest eyes from which love 
from the depths of his soul pleaded in his be- 
half, as they had that evening in the central 
office when she first learned that he loved her, 
and who she really and truly loved, he said: 

“ Dolores, do you not know, can you not see 
that I am actually starving for your love. I 
cannot be mistaken. Although you try to con- 
ceal it, I have felt irumy heart at times that you 
really cared for me. You refused once to be 
my bride but would not say that you did not 
love me. Am I right in believing that your re- 
fusal was based on the discharge of duty to- 
ward your mother? Dearest one, you did not 
think for one minute I would expect you to 
part with her or love her less if you should be- 
come my wife. All that is mine shall be yours 
and hers — wealth, home, love and happiness. I 
shall be the happiest man in the universe to gain 
a real mother and the only woman on earth I 
love for my wife. No mother-in-law for me! 
She shall be my own beloved mother. These 
little white hands of yours shall be decked in 
jewels and will never work again. We shall 
together try to make up to our dear mother what 
she has lost. I shall live to serve you and her. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 301 

My one ambition in life is to make you both 
happy. I did not come to you first, for I would 
not have that dear old mother-heart feel that I 
was trying to steal her jewel, her last child, her 
all. So I sought her asking permission to win 
your heart and hand, if possible. She not only 
gave her consent but promised me a son’s love, 
wishing Godspeed and success. She said she 
would be happy once more if she could only see 
you my wife, as I was her choice of all your 
friends. Now, darling, again I ask, will you 
marry me? Am I included among the few you 
truly love ? ” 

“ No, Horace, you are not one of the few, but 
a segregation, all by yourself, occupying a place 
in my heart separate from all others. You, dear, 
are the only man I love enough to wed and am 
yours for life. Yes, I will be your wife! ” 

Clasping her in his arms, and almost smother- 
ing her with kisses he exclaimed, 

“ At last, thank God, my life, my all ! ” 

A cloud had arisen eclipsing the golden sun, 
while its shadows surrounded them. But they 
were both too happy in each other’s love to be- 
hold anything but the beauty and mercy of divine 
providence, and slowly drove on talking of their 
future hopes and unalloyed joy. Taking from 
his pocket a tiny case he said, 

“ Darling, you will possibly think I was a 
little premature in purchasing this, but I bought 
it at Tiffany’s while in New York hoping it 
might be accepted. Had you refused me, I 
should have returned it. But, thank God, it is 
now yours as is also the purchaser.” 


302 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


And, opening the case, he removed a magnifi- 
cent diamond ring and placed it on her finger. 

“ Oh, Horace, how perfectly gorgeous ! How 
exquisitely beautiful, and a correct fit. How 
did you know ? ” 

“ Darling, do you think I could have watched 
those perfectly-molded little fingers as they flitted 
rapidly over the switchboard at that central 
office and not have known the exact size of each. 
Never did God create but one other pair of hands 
so perfect in shape, size and ivory whiteness and 
those are the hands of your mother. Age, labor 
and exposure cannot alter them. They are a dis- 
tinct unchangeable type of their own differing 
from all others — a legacy handed down to you.” 

“ No, Horace, Grandmother Waud’s and Aunt 
Edith’s hands were beautiful, much smaller and 
better formed than mother’s and mine. You are 
mistaken, exposure and hard work has made its 
mark, and ours have to a degree changed from 
our ancestors — mine especially so. However, I 
am proud of the family heritage or distinction. 
My hands are the only family beauty I have in- 
herited, and menial labor has almost destroyed 
that. But I am glad I sacrificed them for dear 
mother’s sake. What is beauty compared with 
a mother’s comfort and happiness. Oh, Horace, 
you can never know all she has sacrificed for 
her family. And, dear, as much as I love you, I 
would never have married you while she lived 
had you not promised I could still make her 
life bright and cheerful. We have heard noth- 
ing of father for several years until last week 
when we received word in an indirect way of his 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 303 

death. I have made inquiry but have not as 
yet ascertained whether or not it is true. 
Mother never mentions him only in prayer. 
But, Horace, after all his abuse she loves him 
still, as only she is capable of loving.” 

“ And, darling Dolores, is your love for me 
as deep as hers ? ” 

“ No, Horace, my love is different. I love 
you with all my heart and soul. But if you 
should ever abuse or willfully dishonor or de- 
ceive me, I could not respect you. And do not 
think I would allow myself to love a man void 
of honor and principle. I would not divorce 
you, or seek another man as many foolish girls 
do, but my love for you would be dead. I shall 
give to my husband my very life without reser- 
vation, and believe I have a perfect right to 
demand the same in return. As much as I love 
you, Horace, had I not believed your character 
and life as pure as mine I would not have prom- 
ised to marry you. God created male and female 
equally pure, and the sins of man in his sight 
deserve the same condemnation and punishment 
as that of woman. And if sinful woman be 
shunned and ostracised from society, let man 
likewise receive his just deserts. God estab- 
lished but one standard of morality for both 
sexes. Habitual practice, not principle, has 
changed it, thus causing the downfall of human- 
ity. And while custom excuses immoral conduct 
simply because man perpetrated it, the Supreme 
Ruler of the universe will call the nation to ac- 
count. I believe if wives and sweethearts would 
demand of husbands and lovers the same un- 


304 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


sullied character and lives that they demand of 
the weaker vessel as they choose to term us we 
would produce a stronger, wiser nation. Man 
would soon reach the high standard God in- 
tended when he created him in his own image; 
disease would be diminished and America have 
every reason to feel proud of its robust, wise, 
honorable men, glorying in their fine physique, 
health and strength. Our armies and navies 
could then be more easily supplied with proper- 
sized, well-developed soldiers, possessed of clear 
brain, strong will, genuine character and moral 
fiber. Yes, Horace, I love you more than you 
know. But me and mine have, with thousands 
of other innocent victims, suffered almost the 
very pangs of perdition for the sins of man, and 
even though I should dwindle and die for the 
want of your love I would never wed you if I 
had the least reason to suspect you had acquired 
any bad habits or were in the slightest degree 
deceiving me.” 

Again clasping her in his arms he exclaimed: 
“ My love, my noblest of women, I could not be 
so pure as you, dear. For the angels in heaven 
are not worthy of such comparison, but I am 
true, and would suffer any member of my body 
severed rather than deceive my betrothed, my 
queen among women. I shall try to be all you 
expect of me, and God grant I shall never fall 
below your noble standard for mankind. Dar- 
ling, I told my brother and sister, while North, 
of my love for you, and they will be rejoiced to 
hear of your acceptance and will tender you a 
hearty welcome into the family. I own a lovely 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 305 


estate in Vermont, a perfect picture of beauty, 
peaceful repose and quietude on the banks of 
the Connecticut. Would you like to go there 
to live? Or do you prefer your native state as 
a permanent abode. If so, I shall purchase for 
you the finest residence in the Ohio River Val- 
ley.” 

Her thoughts quickly turned to the dear old 
home of childhood days and how she longed to 
own it once again. But she answered sweetly. 

“ No, Horace, I have no choice. Where you 
find it necessary to stay I wish to remain. I an- 
swer as did Ruth to Naomi, ‘ Whither thou goest 
I will go, whither thou livest, I will live; thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God my God/ 
Yes, love, I shall be happy with you though it 
be in a tent. The true foundation of happiness 
is honor, genuine love and contentment, not 
wealth.” 

When they returned to the little cottage they 
immediately told the mother of their engage- 
ment receiving her blessings. The noble woman 
was pleased to see her daughter so extremely 
happy but in the dear old heart was an aching 
void, yes, the one remaining cord that she had 
clung to with such vehement devotion seemed 
suddenly cut asunder and she was at last alone, 
adrift. No one seemed to especially need her 
love and devotion to make them happy now. 
There was even another demanding the attention 
and occupying a place in the heart of her 
darling baby girl. She had sometimes hoped to 
always keep this one for her very own. Yes, the 
bonds of love binding hers to many had been 


3 o 6 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

severed one at a time until not one remained. 
Even the love of idolized Dolores was divided. 
Perhaps it was better so, but she asked God that 
her earthly sojourn might be short, after this 
the last of earthly ties was settled in a home of 
her own. She knew Horace and Dolores would 
be kind to her but her life work would soon be 
ended, and she longed for rest and peace. This 
gentle mother gracefully presided at the evening 
repast, dividing her sweet smiles and loving re- 
marks equally between the daughter and pro- 
spective son-in-law in such a charming manner 
that no one could possibly discern or suspect the 
lonely condition of her aching heart and soul, 
as it passionately called out, “ Oh, my baby, my 
baby girl, is no longer mine — she belongs to an- 
other. Come back to me my child and nestle in 
mothers arms as of yore ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

WEALTH AND SORROW IN A EUROPEAN HOTEL. 

In a first-class European hotel, established in 
elegantly-furnished apartments, surrounded with 
everything selected to please the eye and add 
luxury, comfort and convenience to its occu- 
pants was seated a marvelously beautiful 
woman gowned in a rich slumbering robe of 
garnet velvet. The abundance of glorious dark 
hair fell loosely about her shoulders. Her hands 
were tightly clasped and her head nestled 'mid 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 307 

silken cushions while the shapely little feet in- 
cased in garnet suede slippers rested on a yellow 
satin hassock. The lovely dark eyes were closed 
and one would have supposed at the first glance 
that this fortunate lady was peacefully sleeping 
dreaming of love, wealth, joy and contentment, 
unalloyed by the trials and tribulations of earth, 
but a closer observation revealed deep lines of 
sorrow in this beautiful young face, and an oc- 
casional tear stealing from beneath the closed 
lids, glistening on the dark lashes a minute then 
trickling down her pale cheeks, falling upon 
the velvet gown, proving to the observer that the 
fair woman was not wrapped in slumber but si- 
lently and sadly meditating on some bitter, hid- 
den secret, slowly but surely destroying her beau- 
tiful, useful life and happiness. From an ad- 
joining room, the nursery, could be heard ringing 
out clear and joyous the merry voices of innocent 
childhood. A maid entered the apartments carry- 
ing on a silver tray two letters and announced, 
“ Mail, Madam.” The lady grasping them with 
trembling hands eagerly scanned the addresses. 
One was from her attorney, and the other — 
thank God it had come at last — from her beloved 
husband. Turning to the maid with a kindly 
smile, she said, “ Thank you, Maria. You are 
excused now for a while. I shall ring when I 
need you.” And breaking the seal she read 
these piercing words, 

“ Dear Louise : 

I regret to give you pain, if anything I might 
say could do so, but we must come to an under- 


308 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

standing at once. You left me of your own 
accord three years ago. I did not tell you to go, 
nor did I insist on your remaining with me, for 
as you rightly suspected, I had soon after our 
marriage ceased to love you. I admit you won 
me with your pretty face, of which I soon grew 
tired. The world is full of them and they grow 
monotonous, but I continued to treat you with 
civil respect, furnishing the necessary finances 
for all your notions, whims, travels, etc., allow- 
ing you to come and go when and where you 
liked. I asked you no questions, nor did I care 
when you returned. I presume you lived a gay 
life, but do not know. I did likewise — chose my 
own company, and lived as I pleased. One day 
you told me I had ceased to care for you, 
and our child. I did not deny it. You asked me 
if it were not true, and I replied, ‘ You are a 
very clever woman discerning things readily, and 
should have fully understood me 'ere this. If 
that is your opinion of the matter you are in all 
probability quite right in your judgment.' You 
were angry and replied, ‘ Then do you admit you 
no longer love me? If so, I shall take my for- 
saken child and return to my parents.' I replied, 
‘ No, I do not love you, and if it is your desire 
to go, I shall be pleased with your decision. You 
left my roof — for this I wish to thank you. 
Since then I have learned of the birth of our 
second child, and have set apart ample funds for 
the support of you and the children. But it must 
now come to an end. I wish a divorce and our 
three years' separation will grant it without 
farther trouble or litigation. It would be useless 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 309 

for you to fight it in the court. The fact that 
you left me and remained three years will give 
it on the ground of desertion. Name any 
amount of money you wish, and you shall have 
it, but I must be divorced by August the 25 th, 
if not before. I hope you will take this lightly, 
Louise. Do not fret and soil your pretty face 
by grieving over me. I am not worthy of it. 
Try to find another who will prove true to you 
and be good to the babies. I am desperately in 
love with another woman. She is not beautiful 
like you but is the style of a woman that a man 
can idolize, worship and adore as long as he 
lives. To know her is to love her. I expect 
to marry her as soon as my divorce is granted, 
and will be the happiest man in the universe. 
Congratulations are due. Will you give them? 
I have written your attorney requesting him to 
advise with you, and submit the amount of 
money required as a settlement. A check will 
be forthcoming at once. Kiss the kids farewell 
for their pop. Is the last one a boy or girl and 
what do you call it? 

.Wishing you success and pleasure, I am, 

Very sincerely, 

Hordy.” 

The color left those sad, pitiful lips. The 
beautiful head dropped back. Her hands fell as 
though lifeless to her side, and the heart-broken 
woman sank into unconsciousness from which 
she did not rally for some time. The first she 
remembered was two tiny little hands clasping 
her icy fingers, and a soft childish voice whisper- 


3io THE SHADOW OF, A CURSE, 


ing, “ Mamma, dear please awake. You have 
been asleep so very long, and your hands are 
cold” 

Opening her eyes she beheld her little five- 
year-old son standing by her side. Clasping him 
convulsively in those loving arms she kissed him 
passionately, “ Oh, Hordy ! Hordy ! Mother’s 
pride aud joy! You and baby sister are all she 
has on earth to live for.” Holding him at arms’ 
length she exclaimed, “ Son let mother look into 
your eyes — those eyes, so like your handsome 
father’s. Yes, every feature is molded exactly 
like him. Never was another born the same! 
How can one so perfect in appearance, blessed 
with wealth and beauty cause such agony? Oh, 
God of Justice, I call you to witness how I loved 
him — how I tried to serve him until he drove me 
from home by his contempt and indifference. 
He knows I did not live a fast life, nor did I 
find happiness elsewhere but in him and my child. 
Now he chides me — laughs at me — mocks me, 
ridicules my beauty ! What do I care for beauty? 
But, oh, God, I love him still ! I love him, I love 
him! My husband, the father of my children — 
save him, I pray! Give him back to me, if not 
for my sake, do, I beseech thee, for the sake of 
my innocent babies ! ” 

And again drawing the sweet child to her 
breast, unchecked tears rained down upon the 
curly little head. 

“ Mamma, dear, please do not weep. It hurts 
me to see you so grieved. Have I done anything 
to displease you ? I try to not be rude.” 

“ No darling you are mother’s noble little man 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 31 1 

and are always a good boy. Mother will dry her 
tears. Where is sister ? ” 

“ In the nursery with Mamie.” 

“ Very well, go tell Mamie to dress you and 
sister for dinner. And you may dine with mother 
here in our own room this evening at six o’clock.” 

After the child departed she opened the letter 
from her attorney. He briefly stated the na- 
ture of the communication received from her 
husband advising her to grant the divorce with- 
out litigation as she would gain nothing by con- 
testing it. And what sum would she decide upon 
as a proper basis or estimate for her share of 
the estate. She arose and carefully placed the 
two letters in her desk, locked it and rang for 
her maid. 

“ Maria, I shall dine in my own apartments 
with the children this evening. First see that 
dinner is ordered for six o’clock and then come 
and help me make my toilet.” 

The children were exceedingly happy that 
night as they always were when they were per- 
mitted to dine with their brilliant, beautiful 
mother. But it was difficult for that loving pa- 
rent to restrain the tears and to suppress and 
stifle the sobs and sighs, as they sought in vain 
to reveal the agonies of a bursting, aching heart. 

At eight o’clock she kissed her little darlings 
fond good-nights and bid the nurse take them to 
their beds. She then dismissed Maria saying, “ I 
shall need you no more this evening. Good- 
night.” When alone, she locked her door and 
took from the desk the two letters, carefully 
reading the one written by her husband again 


312 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

and again. No tears were lurking in those spark* 
ling eyes now. Every feature and expression 
showed determination and resolve. Clasping the 
letter in her hand she lifted it heavenward and 
silently knelt by her chair. The glorious brown 
eyes were turned, pleading, upward. The lips 
moved half inaudibly, as this crushed, agonizing, 
deserted woman sought justice, mercy and com- 
fort from a compassionate, all-wise, avenging, su- 
preme protector. As she thus communed with 
her God the expression of her countenance 
changed. A sad, sweet smile played on her 
gentle lips and a look of perfect peace and com- 
fort almost divine came over the beautiful face 
as she arose, singing, 

** I have a Savior he is pleading in glory, 

A dear loving Savior, though earth friends be few ; 
And now he is watching in tenderness o’er me— 

Ah, Friend, could I know he were your Savior, too ! 
For you I am praying, for you I am praying, 

For you I am praying, I am praying for you ! '* 

Seating herself again, she took a pen and 
rapidly wrote three letters, addressing one to her 
husband, one to her attorney, and the other to 
her dearest beloved friend and college chum, 
Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher, for whom she had 
named her baby girl, but from whom she had 
not heard for many years. After placing her 
seal upon them she retired and safely rested in 
calm, sweet repose, guarded by the watchful eye 
of her heavenly Father. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 313 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE PREPARATION FOR THE WEDDING, AND THE 
VISIT WITH MRS. WARDLOW< 

Everything was buzzing with excitement in 
the little Hegmeyher cottage at K — ville. Do- 
lores Emerald Hegmeyher was soon to become 
the wife of Horace L. Norfleet, her millionaire 
suitor. He had purchased a magnificent man- 
sion, an ideal location on an elevation overlooking 
the numerous bends of the serpentine Ohio River 
with its ivy, honeysuckle and trumpet-vine 
wreathed, and with willow-fringed trees reflect- 
ing in the clear waters, casting a glimmering 
vale — like shadow upon the pebbled decorated 
shores. A more desirable or beautiful home 
was not to be found between the Alleghany and 
Monongahela rivers and the rapid-flowing Miss- 
issippi. No expense had been spared. The fur- 
niture of each room was of the best, richest and 
latest design. A plain but suitable wedding had 
been planned. The inexpensive trousseau was 
almost completed. Rev. Byron Waud would 
perform the ceremony, and his enthusiastic wife 
was already there helping in the preparations. 
Dolores felt exceedingly happy, but at times 
when working ’mid laces, ribbons and dainty 
material or standing for hours while the seam- 
stress fitted a pretty garment, the girl would 
draw a deep sigh and a shudder shook the little 


3 H THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

frame as a feeling of horror and prognostication 
came over her. One day she remarked to her 
aunt and mother, “ Do you know, I sometimes 
intuitively feel that Horace and I shall never 
wed — Or as though some great calamity was 
hovering over me? I am not superstitious and 
try to dismiss it from my mind. But my efforts 
are all in vain. The same strange foreboding 
seems to overwhelm me, again and again. Is it 
possible that the shadow of a curse shall never 
be lifted from my life?” 

The loving mother arose and approaching the 
chair where her daughter sat she stooped and 
kissed the pale face, gently replying, “ My child, 
there is no shadow over you. God has lifted it 
long ago. Nothing but joy awaits mother’s dar- 
ling. My poor little girl has found so many dark, 
gloomy places in her short life that she is, I fear, 
growing pessimistic. Do not despair, dear. An 
abundance of sunshine and joy awaits you. ” 

“ Thank you, dearest mother. I hope your 
prediction will prove true, but you know my 
first name means sorrowful.” 

“ Yes, and your second, to emerge, and you 
will arise and be exalted above all trouble. 
Cheer up, my child, a bright future is luring 
you on. What you have lost will return a hun- 
dredfold!” 

The door-bell rang and Mrs. Wardlow, a de- 
vout Christian lady, was admitted, and briefly 
stated that she expected to start the next day 
to a missionary convention to be held in one of 
the adjoining states. Dolores had been unani- 
mously elected delegate and would she accom- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 315 

pany her. The girl asked to be excused, as it 
was less than two weeks until her wedding day. 
But Mrs. Wardlow, who had always been ex- 
ceedingly fond of the child, insisted as did also 
her mother and aunt, and she finally consented to 
make the trip. The next morning Dolores and 
her very dear old lady friend boarded the train 
together en route for S — town. Just as they 
were starting for the station the postman came 
and handed two letters to Dolores, who slipped 
them into her grip to read on the train. After 
Mrs. Wardlow was comfortably seated in the 
parlor car the thoughtful little companion placed 
a cushion under her head, brought her a drink, 
lowered the window shade and the dear old lady 
soon fell asleep. Dolores then leisurely perused 
the two epistles. One was from Horace, and a 
gentle smile played on her countenance as she 
read his ardent, passibnate declarations of con- 
stancy and devotion, the glowing description of 
their beautiful home, and his impatient, zealous 
longing for the wedding day. A soft mist gath- 
ered in her eyes as she read of the elegantly-fur- 
nished apartments in their beautiful home that 
he had so carefully supervised himself to be oc- 
cupied by their beloved mother. “ Ah, noble 
Horace, how thoughtful and considerate he is of 
mother ! She always receives first attention from 
him. I know he will make her last days so 
happy. Thank God, I am a fortunate girl to 
be loved by such a man. Sometimes it all seems 
too good to be true, more than I deserve.” 

The other letter was postmarked, Paris, 
France. Who could it be from? The writing 


3i 6 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

looked familiar but she could not place it in her 
memory. It had been addressed to the old 
Peaceful View home and forwarded to K — ville. 
Yes, it had been a long time on the way. The 
dead letter stamp was upon it. Evidently some 
one had written it who had known her in pre- 
vious years. Breaking the seal, she read the sig- 
nature. 

“ Your most devoted friend, 

Louise Martinez Norfleet.” 

From dear Louise, how delighted she was to 
hear from her again. And, too, she had mar- 
ried a man by the name of Norfleet. Oh, if he 
and Horace were relatives, how nice it would be ! 
She had always loved Louise dearly and would 
be proud of her as a relative. Unfolding the let- 
ter she beheld attached to the upper left corner 
of the first page a miniature of two beautiful 
children. The girl was a perfect likeness of 
Louise, but the boy — how like Horace, a genuine 
Norfleet! Yes, the husband of Louise was with- 
out a doubt a relative, for there was that strong 
family resemblance in her child. No one could 
mistake it. She and Louise had always loved and 
trusted each other as sisters and now they pos- 
sibly would soon become relatives. Perhaps 
Louise had heard of their engagement and writ- 
ten her congratulations. Then she proceeded to 
note the contents of the missive : 

“ My Dearest and most trusted friend Dolores : — 

In this my hour of deepest trial I turn to you as 
my last and only remaining earthly friend. Less 
than seven years have lapsed since we parted 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 317 


at the dear old college in C — ville. Many varied 
and undesirable events have marked my pathway 
since then, shattering my fondest hopes, casting 
darkness and impenetrable gloom about me and 
my little ones. I was married soon after my 
graduation to a man I loved dearer than my own 
life, and he assured me the love was mutual. 
Five years ago my handsome little son came to 
cheer the heart of his lonely mother, who had al- 
ready learned that her husband’s love was dead. 
He had grown weary of me, or “ only a pretty 
face,” as he chose to term it. In vain I endeav- 
ored to win him back, to fascinate him, and make 
home interesting and attractive. But my ef- 
forts were all futile. No influence I brought 
to bear seemed permanently effective, and he 
drifted farther from me each day, until Ihree 
years ago, I asked him if it were not true that 
he no longer cared for me and our children. To 
which he politely but emphatically replied, that 
he did not. My entreaty in behalf of our boy was 
received with indifference and contempt. I be- 
came hysterical, almost crazed with grief, and 
told him if he no longer desired us in his home, 
I would take my forsaken child and go to my 
parents. He thanked me for my decision, as- 
suring me he considered that the only wise and 
proper course for me to pursue. His stern, cold, 
unsympathetic treatment chilled me, and I once 
more returned to my childhood home, where four 
months later my baby girl was born. I named 
her Dolores Emerald, for you. My handsome 
son has his father’s name. Two months later 
mother died, and father was laid by her side dur- 


3 i8 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

ing the same year. Our home was broken up. 
As you know I am an only child. Since then I 
have traveled almost continuously, hoping to find 
some trace of my husband. Nor did I don the 
gown of crape for my parents, fearing if my be- 
loved should see me in the sombre mourning robe 
he might repulse me. Thus I clothed my aching 
heart in a rich, gorgeous apparel. I possessed 
great wealth. All of my parents’ estate together 
with the vast amount deposited by my husband 
soon after our separation for the maintenance of 
myself arid children. But gold cannot purchase 
happiness. Gladly would I sacrifice every penny 
I own if I could only have my husband’s love 
again. For three long years I have watched, 
wept, waited, prayed for his return. Some- 
times I would fancy I heard his footsteps ap- 
proaching my door, and hasten to greet him find- 
ing it was only my maid, the children’s nurse, or 
an idle dream. This afternoon while I was si- 
lently meditating, my maid brought me a letter 
addressed in the well-remembered hand. How 
eagerly I tore it open to find — ah, the cruel blow ! 
— not that he was returning to me, but that he 
had applied for a divorce that he might wed a 
woman he truly loved. My attorney informs 
me nothing can be done and I am left alone, de- 
serted, without a relative in this world. After 
reading the heartless letter I was unconscious 
for some time, and since then have had a severe 
pain in my heart. My pulse is irregular, and I 
fear danger awaits me. At first I was glad 
and would have been happy had God called me 
home, but the thought of my children gave me 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 319 

new courage, and kneeling I asked God to guide 
me, to avenge my wrongs, and protect my chil- 
dren, now worse than orphans. And, dearest 
Dolores, your sweet face seemed to appear before 
me, and a voice whispered, ‘ Your little college 
chum remembers you. She will be true. She 
alone can befriend you and your babies/ A 
strange peace seemed to enter my heart and I 
arose comforted, wrote to my husband; my at- 
torney, and now, dear, I shall attempt to find 
you, leaving the consequence in the hands of a 
wise Creator. If anything happens me, I leave 
you my sole executrix and guardian of my chil- 
dren. This I have plainly set forth in my state- 
ment to both my husband and attorney. Please 
answer by return mail if you receive this, and 
promise you will grant the last request of your 
lone, heart-broken friend, and I shall then be 
satisfied as to the future welfare of my darlings. 
I have never known a person I believed so thor- 
oughly capable of raising a child as you. Are you 
married? I sincerely hope life has strewn more 
flowers along your pathway than it has supplied 
to your unfortunate friend. Now, dear, if it 
would be possible, come to me at once. If not, 
write and help to cheer my lonely life. I shall 
address this to your girlhood home, praying it 
may be received. Anxiously awaiting your reply, 
I am, 

Your most devoted friend, 

Louise Martinez Norfleet.” 

Dolores closed her eyes — trying in vain to shut 
out the picture that arose before them, too piti- 


320 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


able for description. Oh, the sorrow, deception 
and treachery in this world! Beautiful Louise 
Martinez — the free-hearted, loyal, happy, fun- 
loving school-girl another victim to the follies of 
sin, and the man she had loved and trusted, 
while two more innocent children were living 
under the shadow of a curse. Could any man be 
trusted? What if Horace should ever grow 
weary of her love? It would crush her heart. 
Yes, God only knew how she loved him. Was 
he any better than other men? She had often 
said she would never marry a sinner. Horace 
was not a Christian, although he acted the 
Christian’s part. His daily life stood above re- 
proach, even though he was not specially re- 
ligious. Ezell, noble, good Ezell was as firm as 
gold. She would not have been afraid to wager 
her life on his purity — even while in college be- 
fore he professed Christianity he was as solid 
as a rock. Strange that she could never love 
him more than a friend. But Horace — how dif- 
ferent she felt toward him! Yes, she had loved 
him since first they met, and it had really 
never occurred to her that he could be anything 
else than a true, noble man. But why should she 
fear? He always conducted himself as a perfect 
gentleman. Yes, her affianced was true, and 
would ever remain the same. Other men de- 
ceived their wives and sweethearts but Horace 
Norfleet, never! She must not doubt him. She 
would tell him about Louise and show him the 
children’s picture. Possibly he might know the 
wayward, heartless husband and father; if so, 
he would gladly assist in trying to bring about a 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 321 

reconciliation. Yes, Horace would fairly loathe 
and abhor a man of that kind, and, if they were 
really relatives, he would no doubt feel like dis- 
owning him. But for the sake of Louise and 
the babies she must persuade him to not be too 
severe in his judgment and condemnation. Oh, if 
they could only be influential in returning that 
father and husband to his lonely wife and chil- 
dren, thus re-establishing the sacred bonds of 
home and family, how happy she would be ! 

The porter announced, “ First call for lunch in 
the diner/’ and Dolores replacing the letters in 
her grip, and gently smoothing her friend’s gray 
locks, said sweetly, “ My dear Mrs. Wardlow, I 
regret to arouse you, but lunch has been called.” 

“ Thank you, dear girl. It is such a pleasure 
and comfort to travel with one like you. I simply 
read, sleep or do as I choose knowing everything 
will be properly attended to. You assume all 
responsibility and care for me like I were a 
child. It is so sweet and thoughtful of you. 
Other young people are different, and I feel 
afraid to trust them. They are so giddy, 
thoughtless and indifferent to the desires and 
pleasures of older people. Perhaps they have 
been unfortunate enough to have a frivolous, 
worldly-minded mother to train them.” 

“ That, my dear Mrs. Wardlow, often makes 
the difference. Perhaps they would have made 
wiser, more prudent girls than I if their training 
had been different. I often think how little 
wealth is to be compared with the legacy handed 
down to me from the pure example of my 
mother’s life. And if I had every tendency to 


322 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

do evil, if the most alluring temptation were 
brought to bear upon my will power, if every 
fiber of my human nature were weak, the sacred 
love and perfect respect I treasure in my heart 
for that saintly woman, (my mother), would 
prevent me from ever doing anything that she 
might in the slightest degree disapprove. Yes, 
the life and training of that mother will surely 
be reflected in the character of her daughter. 
And the scripture teaches us ‘ Raise a child up 
in the way it should go, and it will not depart 
from it/ ” 

“ Yes, Dolores, I believe what you say is 
true. Parents are responsible to a great degree 
for the lack of principle and politeness in many 
of our young people. I know a number of truly 
good parents, who in their blind, unguarded, sel- 
fish love for the purpose of having their chil- 
dren popular permit them to participate in, and 
attend things that their best judgment teaches 
them is wrong and must eventually lower the 
true standard of morality. Oh, this continuous 
clamor for popularity is ruining our country un- 
til, in many instances, to be popular is to be com- 
mon. Society ! society ! Any and everything 
must be sacrificed to get the young people into 
society. But, Dolores, my child, I consider the 
greatest battle the true, conscientious parent of 
the present day has to fight, and the most dif- 
ficult question to solve, is how can they best 
keep their children out of society ! ” 

The missionary convention was very inter- 
esting and much enjoyed by all present, espec- 
ially so by Dolores Hegmeyher, and when they 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 323 


asked for volunteers for the foreign fields she 
almost regretted that she was not free to offer 
her life in the service. One night after they 
had returned from the church she and Mrs. 
Wardlow sat in the bay window in the commo- 
dious home where they were being entertained, 
vainly trying to keep cool. It had been one of 
those scorching August days, so frequently ex- 
perienced in the southern and eastern states, and 
although it was now eleven o’clock the air re- 
mained warm and sultry. No lights were burn- 
ing and the windows were all thrown open to 
admit any faint breeze that might possibly be 
stirring. Mrs. Wardlow was stated in a large 
Morris-chair, while Dolores sat by her side on 
a low stool, her hand resting carelessly in the 
lap of her friend. The moon shown brightly 
casting its pale, placid light about them. 
Neither of them spoke for some time, both 
seemed lost in thought. The beautiful face of 
sweet Louise Martinez loomed up before the eyes 
of Dolores with all its pure innocence and joy- 
ous girlhood, just as it had the day she first 
met her when but a child, at the top of the steps 
in the dear old college, and, clasping her in 
those shapely arms, she had kissed her cheek, 
called her little sister, and bid her welcome. 
Then the scene changed and she saw Louise 
again, pale, haggard, her face bathed with tears, 
while two children with sad, wan features clung 
to her garments. A man well groomed with a 
look of contentment and satisfaction stood aloof 
laughing and mocking at their calamity, and this 
evil man’s name was Norfleet. He favored 


324 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

Horace, her own Horace that she loved so dearly. 
She moved her hand and the glimmering rays of 
the moon played on the sparkling diamond en- 
gagement ring, causing it to flash with unusual 
brilliancy, attracting the attention of Mrs. 
Wardlow. Turning it on the little ivory finger 
she exclaimed, “ Dolores, that is without a doubt 
the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.” 

The girl did not answer and her friend 
gently raised the thoughtful face to hers. The 
light from the moon fell full upon it, revealing 
those pathetic eyes filled with tears. Dolores 
bit her pale lips tightly in a futile attempt to 
suppress the emotion welling up in her heart 
but a convulsive sob shook her frame, and she 
buried her face in Mrs. Wardlow’s lap in an 
agony of grief. The wise old lady did not dis- 
turb her, but softly stroked the silken hair. After 
the first outburst of sorrow, she gradually grew 
calm and ceased weeping. Mrs. Wardlow placed 
a loving arm about the girl drawing her to that 
motherly breast and tenderly kissing her tear- 
stained cheek, she said, “ Dolores, my favorite 
little friend, why all these tears? What is 
grieving you so bitterly? I have noticed a sad, 
wistful look in those eyes for weeks. Society is 
raving over your future prospects, gossip pro- 
nounces you the most enviable girl in the twin 
state of the old Dominion, and, to all appear- 
ances, you certainly have every reason to be 
happy. Yes, child, in a few days hence, you wed 
one of the most highly-respected men in America. 
He brings to you love, wealth, honor and social 
prestige. Yet in your heart lurks a secret that 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 325 

oppresses and saddens your life. You are no 
longer the free, jovial girl you were ’ere you 
wore this diamond pledge. Can it be possible 
you do not love him ? ” 

“ No, no, my friend it is not that ! Had I not 
loved him, I would have never promised to be- 
come his wife — but I cannot explain it. It is 
a peculiar something — a strange foreboding or 
presentiment, I do not understand. I feel that 
I love him with all my heart, and life would 
be void without him, yet I live in dread of some 
calamity. I do not understand my feelings. 
You know I am neither superstitious or imag- 
inary, but I seem powerless to shake myself 
free of these silly, ghost-like, spooky feelings. 
Mamma says I have seen so much of the dark 
side of life that I am growing pessimistic. You 
know she can always find the silver lining even 
though the subject be black through and through, 
and I have always to a degree inherited her dis- 
position. But I admit my joy and happiness is 
disturbed, and I fear my loving cup is tainted 
with the wormwood and the gall.” 

“ God grant that your life may be one con- 
tinuous, bubbling fountain of perfect bliss and 
happiness, overflowing and filling the lives of 
all who know you with its joy. And if you 
truly love Mr. Norfleet, no one will be more 
pleased than I to see you marry him. But, my 
dear girl, never wed a man you are not willing 
to give up the whole world for — in other words, 
a man you do not feel it would be almost im- 
possible to live without.” 

Dolores arose and kissed the dear old lady re- 
plying, 


326 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 

“ I love him more than all others, excepting 
mother, but I would not give her up for the 
whole world and he knows it. No, no, never 
though I should die for his love. I would never 
forsake my saintly mother, not for all the men 
in the universe. But Horace loves her too. 
Sometimes I believe he likes her better than 
me and it makes me very happy.” 

Mrs. Wardlow kissed her again and again, as 
she exclaimed in a trembling voice, “ God bless 
you, child, your mother possesses a gem, a rare 
jewel. Would to God I had such a devoted 
daughter to cheer and brighten my declining 
years! Fortunate indeed is Mrs. Hegmeyher. 
Money cannot purchase love and happiness. I 
would gladly give all I possess for a child to love 
me as you adore your mother. Alas, it is my sad 
portion to live alone, childless. It was only per- 
mitted me to feel my baby daughter’s little 
chubby hands and velvet cheeks against mine 
during her infancy. She was called away ’ere 
she could lisp her mother’s name, but God knows 
best. Perhaps I was not capable of raising her. 

* Not now, but in the future years. 

It may be in the better land, 

We will read the meaning of our tears, 

And then — ah, then, we’ll understand.”' 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 327 


CHAPTER XL. 

THE BROKEN ENGAGEMENT. 

The convention lasted three days. Dolores 
enjoyed every minute of the time while there 
and returned home abounding in missionary 
zeal. Her mother, aunt and sister-in-law were 
actively engaged preparing for the wedding. 
The evening after her return Horace Norfleet ar- 
rived, high-spirited and happy, his face beaming 
with contentment, joy and anticipation. Only a 
few days remained and the victory would be 
won and the prize awarded to him as his very 
own to keep forever. Both were serenely 
blessed in the bliss of each other’s love. They 
talked and planned for their future, whispering 
their hopes, joys and fears. Dolores told him 
of her strange forebodings and gently kissing 
the smiling face he assured her that no sorrow 
should ever again cross her pathway, nothing 
but love and sunshine dare enter her life after 
they were wed. An hour seemed a lifetime now, 
until he could clasp her in his arms as his very 
own and shield her from every trial, temptation 
and sorrow. Thus the evening hours passed 
swiftly by. Two or three times Dolores thought 
of the letter from Louise but they were so happy, 
just now, it seemed a shame to suggest a subject 
akin to pain. Possibly she had better not men- 
tion the name of the wayward man who was no 


328 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

doubt a relative until after they were married. 
Then they would consider the case of Louise and 
her babies together. She knew he would gladly 
do all in his power to locate the neglectful hus- 
band and father for he was so kind, good and 
sympathetic, especially so to helpless women and 
children. How indignant he would be when he 
heard of that man’s perfidy ! 

“ Oh, yes dearest, I had almost forgotten to 
show you the letter I received from sister 
Georgine to-day. She is very anxious to meet 
you and will be present at our wedding and ex- 
tends a pressing invitation to us to visit her in 
Massachusetts just as soon as we can arrange 
to go. She has written you. Did you receive 
it?” 

“ Yes, a very sweet little missive indeed. She 
is certainly a devoted sister, and her remarks 
concerning you were very complimentary.” 

“ Georgine is a good girl. I have always been 
her favorite brother. Would you like to read 
her letter ? ” 

“ Yes, Horace, I am quite sure I should enjoy 
it very much.” 

Carelessly taking an envelope from his pocket 
he handed it to her saying, “ You will like it, I 
know. Sister writes a very interesting letter.” 

“If you will excuse me Horace I shall go 
nearer the light.” 

“ Certainly, darling.” 

Horace Norfleet was seated with his back to 
the light and could not see the expression on 
the face of Dolores when she first opened the 
epistle. Her eyes fell upon a miniature of two 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 329 


children exactly like the one she had received 
in the letter from Louise, while below them was 
written in a familiar hand “ to our dear father 
from Master Horace Norfleet, aged five years, 
two months, and nine days. And Dolores Emer- 
ald Norfleet, aged two years, eight months and 
one day. Please, father, for our sake, come 
home? ” What did it mean? He had evidently 
made a mistake and given her the wrong letter 
to read. 

“ Horace, I think you have certainly — ” She 
did not finish the sentence, for her eyes fell upon 
the headlines and although she knew he had 
never intended her to see this letter and it was 
possibly wrong for her to read it without his 
knowledge, she must, she would know its con- 
tents. Something seemed to say : “ Read it 

carefully, it is your only chance to know the 
truth, and do your duty to your friend who loves 
and trusts you.” 

“ You think I have certainly what, dearest 
one ? ” 

The girl was nervous but summoned all her 
will power as she gently replied, “ I think you 
have every reason to be proud of the one who 
wrote this letter.” 

“ Yes, darling, I am very proud of sister 
Georgine. I guess I shall close my eyes and 
dream of your sweet face while you are read- 

• ft - 

mg. 


“ Very well, Horace.” 

And this noble girl read what must mean a 
death-blow to her sacred love, cherished hopes, 
and fondest ambitions. The dreaded and fore^ 


330 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


boded dire calamity had indeed fallen yet she 
continued to read the words that pierced that 
loyal heart deeper than a two-edged dagger. 

" My own beloved husband : 

The letter I have watched, longed and prayed 
for arrived this afternoon. Oh, how anxiously 
I broke the seal to read the words penned by the 
hand of one I love more than my life. Yes, 
Horace in my case * absence has only made the 
heart grow fonder,’ and I love you more this 
evening than I did the day we solemnly vowed 
constancy to each other until death. Do I still 
love you? Yes, as firm as the everlasting hills 
is my deep undying regard for you, my idolized 
husband, and the father of my children. Ah, 
Horace, God only knows the depths of agony 
I have waded through since I last beheld your 
face three years ago. Everything I do is with 
but one thought, one object in life, and that is 
always centered on you. 

“ When our little infant daughter was first 
placed in my arms, I wished her father might 
see her face. When the nurse takes the children 
for a walk I see that they are dressed to please 
their father, if he should chance to meet them. 
Each time my toilet is made, it is to win your 
approval. I wear only such garments and 
jewels as you have always admired. Each article 
I purchase is brought with the same desire to 
please your fastidious taste. My dreams are 
all of you. For three long years I have listened 
for that familiar footstep, hoping, trusting, 
praying for your return. Both children lisp your 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 331 

name in prayer each night and morning. With 
their little hands clasped and heads bowed, they 
earnestly say, ‘ God care for father, and bring 
him safely home.’ After kissing me good-night 
each of them kiss your picture saying, ‘ Good- 
night, father dear.’ Oh, Hordy, they are so 
beautiful, bright, and interesting, how can you 
forsake them. Horace, Jr., is so like you that I 
often sit and quietly watch him for hours, as I 
think of you his beloved father. His glorious 
eyes are just like yours. No one else but you 
and he ever had such. Our baby girl looks like 
me. I named her for my dearest girl friend, 
Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher, whom I was very 
fond of in college. Yes, Horace, my one am- 
bition in life has been to regain my husband and 
his love, and when your letter came to-day it 
took no second glance to recognize the writing. 
It was the letter I had been watching for these 
three long, dreary years, come at last. But, oh, 
God forgive you, I do, for the pain caused by 
those cruel words. Can I ever forget? You 
want a divorce, for you love another. Very 
well, darling, if you wish it. I shall never enter 
a contest, nor do I need your money. But, Hor- 
ace, my beloved husband, how can you be so 
cruel, so heartless? How can you so soon for- 
get your solemn promises and declarations of 
love? Why did you persuade me to leave my 
happy home and become your wife, almost be- 
fore I had reached the age of womanhood? 
Was it done for the pleasure you might find in 
destroying an innocent life and trampling it 
under your merciless feet? Does the agonizing 


332 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

sighs of a forsaken girl-wife and the pathetic 
wails of your lone children, left worse than 
orphans, make you happy? In the name of all 
that is sacred in heaven and earth, have you no 
pity? Are you entirely void of conscience? I 
again plead with you, not for my sake, but in the 
name of our forsaken, helpless children, your own 
flesh and blood, and in the name of the woman 
you say you now really love will you not come 
back to us? Oh, Horace, if that girl is all you 
say she is, you surely are deceiving her. Such a 
woman would not wed you if she knew the truth, 
and will be extremely unhappy if after your mar- 
riage she learns of your perfidy. I beg you to 
consider the consequence. Please, do not wreck 
another life as you have mine. Come back to 
me, I pray ! Be a father once more to our babes. 
I do not ask you to love me and will serve you as 
your humble slave, and be happy if you are only 
near me, if I can behold your dear face, and 
hear our children call you father. I cannot en- 
dure my burdens much longer. I feel I am fast 
sinking under the load. Since you left me I 
have had repeated attacks with my heart. My 
parents are both dead, and if you are determined 
to leave us alone I wish to make some arrange- 
ments for the future care of our children. I 
have no relatives living, and desire Miss Dolores 
Emerald Hegmeyher appointed sole guardian 
and executrix for my babies. She is the last one 
on earth that loves me — the only person I could 
freely trust to watch over and protect my dar- 
lings after I am gone. If she will grant me this 
last request, I shall die happy, and be glad, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 333 

when the summons comes to go hence. If you 
wed the other girl be kind to her, I pray. Never 
neglect her as you have me. Be sure you love 
her, ’ere you are married, and do not grow weary 
of her charms as you have of mine. Remember, 
a woman’s loving heart is not a thing to be cast 
aside easily at will. They are too delicate for 
rough usage — break easily and can never be re- 
placed. Once more I plead with you for the 
love of your children, and old times’ sake — take 
me back again ! But, if not, farewell, my beloved 
husband, my darling, my love, my life, my all ! 
Farewell! God forgive and save your soul! 
May you never know half the sorrow and 
anguish I feel to-night. I shall meet you at 
the judgment seat of God with the same sancti- 
fied love I gave you the night we were wed. 

Yours, and yours forever, a lone, forsaken 
wife, 

Louise Martinez Norfleet.” 

When Dolores finished reading the letter her 
hands clasped convulsively in her lap. A death- 
like shudder shook her frame, the sad face was 
livid. Her breath came in gasps, and those 
pathetic eyes from which the last trace of hope 
had vanished stared with a vacant, lifeless ex- 
pression at the man who had destroyed her life 
— alone, deceived, betrayed by the man she 
loved! The man she had believed absolutely 
free from wrong, the man whom she would have 
given her life to save, and whom she trusted 
more than all the world beside, the man she was 
plighted to wed in a few days — was already the 


334 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

lawful husband of her dearest girl friend and the 
father of her children. Ah, no wonder she had 
strange presentiments! God had interceded in 
her behalf to save her from the horrible im- 
pending doom. He had made it possible for her 
by sacrificing love and future ambitions to re- 
store the old happy life to dear Louise and her 
babies. He had, in answer to the forsaken 
woman’s prayer, directed her to write the letter 
that had revealed the horrid truth. Sin always 
brings its results, and it had again fallen upon 
this defenceless girl. She must endure the sor- 
row and disgrace alone. Yes, she would still 
remain under the shadow herself, and by so do- 
ing help to dispell the gloom now enveloping 
others. Her conscience was clear. She had 
not sinned. True, she had loved this man more 
than he would ever know, but he in his suave, 
fascinating manner had won her admiration, con- 
fidence and love. She had believed him the 
very soul of honor and loyalty. Alas, he was 
in truth a base deceiver — yes, the vilest of the 
vile! Horace Norfleet, her earthly idol, had 
suddenly fallen from his exalted pinnacle, shat- 
tered and broken, crushing her heart beneath the 
wreckage. Oh, that she had died ’ere she saw 
him or knew of his treachery. Resting her el- 
bows upon the table she covered her face with 
those little white hands and sent a pathetic appeal 
heavenward for protection and guidance in this 
her hour of deepest humility, shame and sorrow 
that she might use wisdom and justice in dealing 
with the one she still loved, but must bid fare- 
well to forever. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 335 

“ Darling, have you not finished that letter 
yet ? ” 

For one second she looked heavenward as her 
supplication ascended to God. Then she quietly 
arose and stepped before him as she replied in 
a clear commanding voice, 

“ Yes, Mr. Norfleet, I have carefully read each 
word of the letter you gave me. However, it 
was not from your sister Georgine, but written 
by the hand of your lawful wife, Louise Mar- 
tinez Norfleet ! ” 

The man started from his seat, the color left 
his face, and he shook violently as with palsy. 
His strong hands clutched the arm of the chair. 
His eyes looked like burning orbs, as he whis- 
pered, “ My God, Dolores ! my God, what have I 
done ? Have I given you the wrong letter ? ” 

“ No, Horace Norfleet, you gave me the right 
letter — the one God meant I should read. You, 
with your perfidious smiles, wiles and arts sought 
to beguile me into an illegal marriage. You 
would have wrecked my fair name, and laughed 
at the havoc wrought as you have that of beauti- 
ful Louise Martinez, but God did not permit it. 
Nor will he allow you to continue your evil life 
unpunished. Did you entertain the thought 
that you could go on and on in your heartless 
practice, and traffic in women’s hearts, hoping 
to win as many as possible — enjoy them as a 
child does a new toy and cast them aside as a 
thing to be ignored, condemned and down-trod- 
den when a new one chanced to appeal to your 
fancy, or win your momentary approval? The 
Bible tell us, ‘ Be sure your sins will find you 


336 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

out.’ ‘ What a man soweth that shall he also 
reap/ But, alas! the shame that others must 
with you reap your blasted harvest! No man 
can live to himself alone, and his sin brings 
pain to others. Why will people continue to 
say, ‘ Oh, let him alone, he is only a boy sowing 
his wild oats. He will settle down when he 
grows older and make a man of himself/ They 
forget that each imperfect seed sown in the 
field of a lifetime will multiply a hundredfold, 
destroying and choking out the good, producing a 
succession of blasted crops until eternity. And 
who will reap this poisonous, diseased, infectious 
grain? Thousands of heart-broken women and 
forsaken children are to-day clamoring for 
love, sympathy, food and clothing as the fruits 
of the wild oats sown, ’ere the heartless wretch 
who planted the seed and perpetrated these 
crimes decided to settle down and become a 
man. 

“ Oh, that the sleeping world would awake to 
the fact that a boy should possess the principles 
of manhood, just the same as a girl the prin- 
ciples of virtuous womanhood. This accursed 
soul-destroying, wild-oats custom of youth would 
soon be abandoned, giving us instead a genera- 
tion of noble, stalwart, clear-brained, strong- 
minded honorable youths, detesting wrong, 
ready to fight for purity, truth, honor and jus- 
tice. 

“ Ah, Horace Norfleet, I believed you different 
— thought you a man that abhorred evil. When 
I received the letter from dear Louise, telling 
me of her lonely life and requesting me to be- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 337 


come guardian of her children it never occurred 
to my mind that you, the man I loved and ex- 
pected to wed, was the author of her sorrow. I 
wondered if her husband were a relative of 
yours, and if so thought how it would distress 
you to know one of your kin would bring shame 
and disgrace on the family name. I have not 
answered her letter. I had decided to ask your 
advice and assistance in restoring to my friend 
her wayward husband. I believed you would 
condemn his conduct and gladly lend a helping 
hand to reinstate the wronged, deserted wife and 
children to their proper place. How could I 
doubt your truth and sincerity, you who have 
solemnly repeated, again and again, your perfid- 
ious vows of faithfulness, loyalty and devotion — 
you who have, with your right hand raised to 
God, assured me that you would suffer any mem- 
ber of your body severed, rather than deceive me 
in the slightest degree? Yes, Horace, I trusted 
you — loved you with every fiber of my being. 
Do not think your wealth allured me. I should 
have loved you just the same had you been ab- 
solutely penniless. I loved you for what I be- 
lieved to be your noble, manly self. And you 
have proven yourself absolutely void of the first 
principles of honer and true manhood. I know 
of no justifiable excuse any man can give for 
deliberately deserting helpless infants, his own 
flesh and blood. Such a man should be con- 
demned as a traitor to humanity, and ostracized 
by the respectable world. Horace, tell me* are 
you absolutely void of conscience? Did you 
feel no love or sympathy for dear Louise and 


338 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

your babes when you read this letter? What 
were your plans? Did you mean to go through 
an illegal form of ceremony with me — make me 
believe myself your lawful wife, and cast me 
aside as you have Louise, a lonely, broken- 
hearted girl with my youth, honor, virtue and 
spotless character blighted forever? What 
pleasure or profit did you expect to gain by 
dragging others into the dark abyss of despair 
and ruin. Speak, vile, base deceiver! Speak, 
and answer my question ! ” 

The girl stood with her proud head erect. 
The color had surged to her cheeks, and the 
earnest gray eyes sparkled with a look of out- 
raged pride and indignation. The man was as 
pale as he would be the day death claims his 
breathless remains. Extending his trembling 
hand, he grasped her arm as he whispered: 

“ Dolores ! Dolores ! My God ! Have you 
no mercy, no pity? What you have said will 
kill! Each word is as a poisonous arrow pierc- 
ing my heart. For the love I bear you, I plead 
for mercy ! ” 

She withdrew her arm from his iron grasp 
and stepped back a pace as she replied: 

“ Man, how dare you touch me or plead for 
mercy? Horace Norfleet* do you deserve mercy 
or pity? What mercy have you shown Louise? 
What pity have you for your helpless children? 
Kill you — ah, the few truthful words I have 
spoken, kill you? No danger; such as you can- 
not die so easily as that. Have you thought of 
the sure but slow death Louise is dying from, tor- 
ture and neglect at your merciless hand, and of 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 339 

the children growing up without a father’s love 
and care? Ah, no! Only of your own selfish 
lusts and desires! How dare such as you plead 
in the name their love to one they have brought to 
the very verge of destruction and would have 
pushed her over the brink into the fathomless 
depths of ruin had not God interceded in her be- 
half? What does the word love mean to one 
with such vile propensities ? Here, take your ring, 
and go — but not to wreck another life. If you 
have one grain or principle of manhood left, sail 
on the first vessel sailing for France, and there 
seek your beautiful wife and children, ask her 
forgiveness, and try to redeem and extinguish 
your past.” 

The strong, handsome man fell on his knees 
at her feet weeping bitterly as he pleaded in pas- 
sionate appeal, 

“ Dolores, Dolores ! Oh, my God, have 
mercy! Please, do not speak so harshly! I 
know, I now see it all. I am the vilest of sin- 
ners, but let me explain, let me tell you how it 
all came about and then pass sentence. Even the 
worst criminal is entitled to a trial, a fair hearing. 
And you the purest of God’s earthly followers 
will surely not refuse to hear me.” 

“ Very well, Horace, I shall hear you through. 
Kneel not to me. Arise and be seated.” 

She motioned him to a chair, and drawing an- 
other up before him, said, 

“ You may now proceed.” Her earnest eyes 
were riveted on his, and, although her heart beat 
in his favor quite loud, there was no expression 
of pity or compassion on that sad, stern face. In 


340 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


a trembling, half-audible voice he began, 

“ Dolores, about seven years ago, while travel- 
ing in Europe, living a fast life, sowing all kinds 
of corrupt seed, I was introduced to a young 
American girl recently graduated from an Amer- 
ican college, and a debutante of that year. She 
was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and 
half of the European gallantry was crazed over 
her face. I soon added another moth to the 
swarm already playing about this sparkling flame, 
and was proud to find myself the most favored 
of all her numerous suitors. Others were 
desperate, and tried every stratagem to win her, 
but my vanity was rewarded by seeing them all 
fail, and I come out victorious. She was beauti- 
ful, wealthy and attractive, bidding fair to be- 
come a great social leader. I was never taught 
to consider the sanctity of true love and marriage 
as you have been. Instead my training had been 
to wed a girl of wealth, social position, title and 
noble blood. All of this Louise Martinez pos- 
sessed, and I decided that she was my best 
catch. I might possibly never do so well again, 
so addressed her and was accepted. She, poor 
dear girl, poured out her whole heart of love to 
me. Alas, it was not reciprocated! I did not 
love her, but believed myself incapable of deep 
regard, and thought it only a silly notion of 
fancy indulged in by women. I admired Louise, 
respected her, and thought that was all that was 
required or necessary. She need never know I 
possessed no sentimental regard for her, so I mar- 
ried this, the most sought-for girl in Europe. But 
marriage without love is a failure. Poor heart, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 341 


in our case it was all on her side. She fairly wor- 
shiped me, but in return I was disgusted with 
her sentimental notions, grew tired of her pretty 
face, and soon sought amusement and attraction 
elsewhere. When our boy came, Louise was de- 
lighted and thought I should be. But I was not. 
She persisted in lavishing her devotion on the 
child and me, instead of starring in society as I 
wished. Thus I left her much alone. When she 
finally accused me of neglect and lack of regard I 
frankly confessed I did not love her. She 
pleaded for our child’s sake, but I only laughed 
at her entreaties, and after weeping and impor- 
tuning, she finally took the child and left. I did 
not seek a divorce then for I did not care for 
one. I was sure I would never marry another 
woman. My attorney was instructed to provide 
freely for Louise and the boy and I considered 
that the end of my obligation. Since then I have 
been a man of the world, have seen life in every 
phase. Yes, I have been a bad man. One year 
ago I returned to America and entered into the 
banking business with my brother and others. 
It was about that time I met you at Judge Ur- 
dine’s. Ah, that night shall I ever forget. Yes, 
Dolores, since the first time I beheld your sweet 
face I have known the true meaning of the word 
‘ love.’ My love for you has been no idle fancy. 
Your face has ever been before me. I have 
thought of you continuously. Oh, God, how I 
love you. My first impulse was to try to over- 
come my infatuation. But how could I? The 
rushing cataract of the Mad Niagara could be as 
easily controlled as my love for you. But, Do- 


342 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

lores, believe me, had I not discovered it was 
mutual I should never have asked you to be my 
wife. I realized then, as never before, how 
Louise must have suffered — how wrong it was 
for people to wed when no mutual love exists. I 
knew it was my duty to return to her, but I could 
not, I dare not. Now that I had truly found the 
one woman on earth that could ever make me 
happy, I dare not lose her. I sought the counsel 
of my brother and sister and both advised me to 
secure a divorce from Louise and marry you. It 
was then I wrote Louise and her lawyer, demand- 
ing a divorce, which will be granted next Satur- 
day. I did not wish to deceive you, and had no 
intention of marrying you illegally. Our wed- 
ding will be perfectly legal. But you, dear, are 
so conscientious, I feared to tell you the truth. 
I have never loved Louise, but you I shall adore 
until death, whether you be my wife or not. 

" Now, Dolores, I have told you all — nor have 
I screened myself in anything. Do you still scorn 
my love ? Have you no mercy ? I am willing to 
do anything — yes, even though it be to suffer 
death — if by so doing I can still have your love, 
friendship and respect. Oh, will you not for- 
give me who would die for you? Do not, I plead, 
destroy our happiness and the pleasure we have 
planned for your dear mother just because I 
made that foolish misstep in youth by marry- 
ing a girl I did not love. I had no idea she 
was a friend of yours. Do anything you like for 
Louise and the children, but do not wreck our 
lives, too! Remember, two wrongs can never 
make a right. Would to God I had not married 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 343 

her, but it cannot be helped now. Oh, darling, 
you will not. break our engagement now ! I plead 
for mercy in the name of the sacred love we 
bear each other ! ” 

The girl’s voice had suddenly changed from 
that of a free-hearted, happy girl to the sad, 
sweet, pathetic tone of her sacrificing mother. 
It had lost its silvery chimes, as she carefully 
measured each 'word. 

“ Ah, Horace, it is the same piteous cry we 
hear day after day — wasted time and opportu- 
nity ! Yes, I pity you ! For you were raised to 
think more of position than principle, wealth 
than character, and to sow seeds of destruction, 
regardless of their production. But just when 
you hope to soon reap a glorious harvest of 
love you find the tares which you thoughtlessly 
planted springing up and destroying your golden 
grain. You won a beautiful girl’s heart and 
love for the pleasure of gaining precedence over 
other admirers, and wedded her to gain wealth 
and social prestige. In return for her love and 
very life you wearied of her smiles and scorned 
your firstborn. Her heart-broken entreaties fell 
upon your hardened heart as upon a stone, and 
you deserted them. 

“ But at last the scales have changed. You 
find some one you love, even as Louise has loved 
you. The same deep regard that she has felt has 
pierced your heart also. You realize what she 
has suffered, but was not man enough to treat 
her honorably. No, no, instead you sought to 
rid yourself of her and your children in an under- 
hand manner that you might be permitted to wed 


344 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

the girl you love. But the all-wise and avenging 
God did not permit or desire that your treach- 
erous plans should be accomplished. 4 The mills 
of the Gods grind slow but sure/ You have 
rightly said, * Two wrongs cannot make a right/ 
And because you married that woman without 
love, why add another crime by destroying her. 
Try to do all in your power to undo that wrong. 
Could I wed you now? No, never. The man 
I marry must be a man of principle and honor. 
I loved you with all my heart and soul, but my 
love perished with my respect. The true Horace 
Norfleet that I loved has really never existed. 
Now, Horace, if you still wish my friendship, 
respect and approval, there is only one way you 
can regain it, and that will be by proving your- 
self a man. It is not a question of selfish regards 
now, but duty. You married Louise Martinez 
and made her believe you loved her. I know 
dear Louise, and feel sure she gave her whole 
heart to you without reservation. She is your 
wife, and you are responsible in the sight of God 
for her happiness and the training of those 
children. You have no right even to consider 
the charms of other women. Now, Horace, I 
make this one last request of you: if you truly 
love me as you say you do, will you, for my sake, 
send a telegram stopping your divorce proceed- 
ings, sail on the first vessel to France and seek 
your wife and children? If you do not love her, 
give her your sympathy and pity as you now ask 
at my hand, sacrifice your own love for their 
sake, and make them happy. The life that is in- 
capable of some sacrifice for others is not worth 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 345 

the living. If you truly love me you will do this. 
And in return I shall give you my hand as a 
pledge of friendship, confidence and good will. 
I promise to pray for you each day, and think 
of you kindly and often. I shall assume all 
blame of our broken betrothal — not even my own 
darling mother shall ever know of your treachery 
and deception. But if you still decline to be a 
man I shall justly condemn you and the world 
shall know of your perfidy. Now farewell, 
Horace, go before mother comes in. I do not 
wish her to see you again. Choose, quickly ! ” 

“ Oh, darling Dolores, this is more than I can 
endure. I am not strong like you! Does it 
cause you pain? ” 

“ Ah, Horace, more than you can ever know, 
or are capable of feeling. But I am willing to 
die at the post of duty.” 

“ Dolores, if I go and do as you bid me will 
you still love me ? ” 

“ Horace, you forget yourself. Remember, 
you are a married man, and must never again 
speak of love to other women than your own 
wife. Will you try to be a man once more that 
I may respect you. Do you promise Horace ? ” 

“ Yes, Dolores, for your sake I go. Do not 
forget to pray for me.” 

“ No, Horace, never until my lips are stilled 
in death. Horace, take this ring and give it to 
Louise. Say the other woman sent it to her, 
its rightful owner. But do not tell her who you 
expected to wed. She must never know that 
her dearest friend, Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher, 
came near taking from her her husband, the 


346 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

man we both love unwisely. And, Horace, for 
my sake be good to her, treat her as you would 
have treated me. I shall be happier away from 
you if I know you are honorable than to have 
lived with you and feel that you were void of 
principle. God bless you, Horace. Be firm, 
farewell ! ” 

“ Dolores, must we part thus ? Shall I never 
kiss your lips again ? ” 

“ No, Horace, you have no right. We must 
never meet again on earth. Be a Christian, and 
I shall sometime meet you in heaven where part- 
ing is no more. There ‘ we shall be neither mar- 
ried or given in marriage/ ” 

He bowed his head, kissed the little hand for 
the last time saying, “ Ah, my guardian angel, 
if all women were such as you, men would be 
better in this world. I shall start immediately 
for France, and for your sake I shall be a man. 
Poor Louise shall receive every little kindness I 
had hoped to bestow on you. But remember, 
Dolores, my love is yours until eternity.” 

Their hands clasped, and he gasped, “ Dolores, 
my love, my all ! Good-bye ! ” She gently whis- 
pered, “ Farewell ! God bless and keep us 
both ! ” They looked earnestly into the eyes of 
each other as though trying to impress that last 
fond glance on their memories forever and he 
walked from the room. 

Dolores sank into a chair and closed her eyes 
vainly trying to hide the vision that arose before 
her dark and appalling. He was gone and gone 
forever, and with him her last fond hope had 
vanished. Ah, that love! How she had fairly 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 347 

worshiped him! How could she live without 
him? Never again would she see that handsome, 
smiling face — never hear his dear voice or feel 
his gentle caresses. She had known sorrow and 
pain before but never like this. Oh, that she 
might die and be at rest! Why was she born? 
Must she suffer until death for the sins of others ? 
Then the face of her beautiful mother together 
with that of Louise arose before her. Ah, yes, 
she suffered but not as they had. God had saved 
her from the doom of a deserted, abused wife, 
and had made her the chosen instrument to partly 
restore their happiness. She must try to forget 
her love for Horace and think of him as only a 
friend and the husband of Louise. She would 
drown her trouble by working for mother, and 
loving her as never before. Her whole heart, 
life and very existence from this day hence- 
forth should be devoted to the best interests of 
that saintly parent. How could she explain to 
mother and auntie about the broken engagement, 
the cancelled wedding to have been solemnized 
in a few days. They must never know the truth. 
She had promised to shield Horace from all 
blame — yes, even though the world condemned 
and criticised her. They must think him inno- 
cent of wrong. The fault must all be laid at her 
door. The new trousseau must now be cast 
aside. She had resigned her position when the 
wedding was announced and must now seek em- 
ployment elsewhere — and, oh, horrors ! the house 
must be sold. The mortgage could not be 
lifted. Eric was now employed and settled else- 
where with his own family. Yes, the home must 


348 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

go, but she would provide another for her mother, 
and seek to make her comfortable and happy. 
Kneeling by her chair, she poured out the bur- 
den of her heart and soul to a heavenly Coun- 
sellor and Guide. 

The next morning when Dolores appeared at 
the breakfast-table her face was pale, and a look 
of determination and firm resolve took the place 
of the usually joyous, free, open countenance 
but she kindly bid them all good-morning. Her 
aunt laughingly remarked, “ Dolores, you seem a 
little serious for a girl who expects to be a bride 
in a few days. Especially so to have spent the 
past evening with your lover.” 

“ Do you think so, auntie,” she replied, with 
a futile attempt at smiling. She ate but little and 
after breakfast arose, saying, “ Mother, may I 
see you in the parlor ? ” 

“Yes, child, for a few minutes, but we are 
very busy. Remember, a wedding means much 
work.” 

When they entered the parlor, she drew her 
chair up and taking her mother’s hand lovingly 
said, “ I have something to tell you which I do not 
expect you to understand, but beg of you do not 
judge me too harshly. I know what I am doing 
is all for the best. Mother, dear, I wear no 
engagement ring this morning, and you may de- 
sist in your preparation for the wedding. I 
shall not be married. Our engagement is 
broken.” 

“ Dolores, my child, what do you mean? You 
are surely not sincere in what you are saying. 
Who did it? Was it you or Horace? Surely not 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 349 

my noble child. She would not do such a thing. 
Is it possible that Horace whom we have all 
trusted so thoroughly would deceive and for- 
sake my child? ” 

“ No, mother, do not blame Horace ; it was I 
who broke the engagement and returned his ring. 
We bid each other farewell and parted as friends. 
Horace has gone to New York and will soon sail 
for Europe. Please, do not condemn him, 
mother, if you love me. He left because I com- 
manded him to go.” 

“ Oh, my child think what you have done. 
What reason did you give for your rash act? 
Why have you refused to be his wife? ” 

“ Mother, I have discovered that we are not 
congenial or intended for each other. I do not 
love Horace now as I once thought I did. I 
love him only as a friend and dare not wed him.” 

“ Oh, Dolores, my poor, thoughtless girl ! Did 
I think one of mine would ever be so fickle? 
Why did you not think of this ’ere you carried 
things so far? You have made that noble boy 
think you loved him dearly. In fact, you gave us 
all every reason to believe your betrothal sacred. 
And now, just a few days before the wedding, 
after the announcement has been made, your 
trousseau finished and everything prepared, you 
have cast him aside. The noble boy has already 
bought and furnished an elegant home in which 
he expected to install you as queen of the house- 
hold. Child, what has changed you thus — you, 
who have always been so gentle, kind and 
thoughtful of every one else, to a heartless, 
merciless woman? Did he speak unkind to you, 


350 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

or show that he had ceased to love you ? Did it 
pain him much to leave you ? ” 

“ No, mother, he was not unkind, and I am 
quite sure he still loves me dearly. To part with 
me was no doubt a heavy blow; but after I ex- 
plained matters to him I am glad to know he saw 
that my opinion was correct. He believes as do I 
that marriage is out of the question.” 

“ Dolores, you will sometime regret the step 
you have taken. The way you have treated poor 
Horace will all come back to you.” 

“ No, mother, I shall never regret it. My con- 
science is clear in the sight of God and man. I 
did my duty. And though I should starve or die 
in a county infirmary, I shall always be glad I did 
as my conscience dictated. Mother, please do not 
feel angry with me! I would rather have died 
than brought this upon you or cause you pain, but 
I could not marry him. Now, I love only you. 
I shall work for you, live for you, and if neces- 
sary die for you. I shall never wed while you 
live, or leave you for any one. But I dare not 
wed Horace Norfleet. Please, forgive and trust 
your lonely girl, and I will be your humble, little 
slave. I can endure anything but your ill-will.” 

She buried her head in her mother’s lap and 
sobbed bitterly. The wise mother kissed her 
burning cheek, smoothed the silken hair and said 
softly, “ Yes, darling, mother forgives and 
trusts you. I cannot understand your feelings 
but God knows all and his will be done.” 

Very pleasant and comfortable was the new 
home of Eric Hegmeyher, situated in a Pennsyl- 
vania mining town. His mother and sister had 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 351 


come for a visit. Dolores would only remain a 
few days, and return to one of the southern 
states where she had accepted a position as su- 
perintendent of kindergarten work, but Mrs. 
Hegmeyher expected to remain with Eric and 
wife until her daughter was thoroughly estab- 
lished in her new profession, then they would 
secure a suitable location and live cozy and com- 
fortable together. Their home in K — ville had 
been sold and the proceeds applied on the family 
indebtedness. Mrs. Hegmeyher did not grieve 
over the loss. Her entire life had been com- 
posed of disappointments, sorrows and painfully- 
varied experiences. And now that she was near- 
ing the ultimatum of her earthly sojourn why 
should she fret and distress others by lamenting 
over the inevitable. All she desired was a com- 
fortable place of abode with her own idolized 
baby girl to love and administer to her wants. 
True, she had keenly felt the blow when the 
castle of hope and ambition for the popular 
career of her daughter had suddenly fallen and 
been dashed to pieces by the broken engagement 
between Dolores and Horace Norfleet. But 
after their first conversation, the subject had 
never again been referred to. 

The girl received severe criticism by many 
relatives and friends for her heartless treatment 
of her affianced, and many predicted a dark 
future as retribution, or form of vengeance, 
while some were unkind enough to suggest that 
she had purposely flirted with this man, and en- 
couraged him that she might gain popularity, 
money and fine clothing. No one will ever know 


352 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

the torture this poor girl endured from taunts, 
jeers and insinuations inflicted by unsympathetic 
people who knew absolutely nothing of the true 
condition of affairs, and had once professed sin- 
cere unchangeable friendship. If any personal 
questions were asked, Dolores always replied, 
“ I did as my conscience dictated and must ac- 
count to God alone for my conduct. I have 
my own life to live. No one else can live it for 
me, and I am willing to assume the responsibil- 
ities of my errors and misdeeds. But I am 
grateful that my trial will be before a just 
Judge, the supreme Judge of the universe, who 
knows all things, and is capable of reading the 
secrets of the inner heart, and not before a cor- 
rupt, earthly tribune. ,, 

Mrs. Hegmeyher was very lonely after Do- 
lores left. She had not been separated from her 
daughter more than a few days at a time since 
her return from college at the age of seventeen. 
True, she loved Eric and Cecelia, his wife, dearly, 
but longed for home, her own home. Even 
though it be ever so humble, she wanted a place 
where she and Dolores could dwell together and 
call it “ home.” Her youthful ambitions had 
been crushed, demolished. Yes, husband, fam- 
ily, wealth, position, rank and happiness had per- 
ished together, leaving but one feeble little life 
preserved to sustain her, and this she clung to 
with the vehement grasp of a drowning man. 
Yes, Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher was the one 
remaining piece of human perfection in the 
sight of her aged mother. Those beautiful eyes 
that were gradually growing dim watched for 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 353 


this beloved, idolized child. Her dainty, little 
fingers were always busy 'mid handmade lace, 
embroideries and drawn work, modeling some- 
thing tasty and pretty for her daughter and now 
that Dolores had gone away she counted the 
weeks, days and even the hours until they would 
be again reunited. Lillian Constance Waud 
Hegmeyher realized that time for her was short 
but prayed that she might be with her daughter 
in their own little home when the heavenly mes- 
senger was sent to transport her to the “ home 
not made with hands, eternal and in heaven.” 
Anxiously she watched the mail for the regular 
semi-weekly letter addressed in the familiar 
hand she so much loved. Earnestly scanning 
them, hoping to behold the longed-for message, 
“ Come, I am ready," and when she would read 
that her daughter had not yet found a suitable 
house, a sad, far-off, wistful expression would 
steal into her eyes. One day Cecelia saw a 
tear drop on the open letter but it was hastily 
brushed away, as she remarked with a futile at- 
tempt at smiling, “ Dolores says she hopes to 
soon be located and send for me; I shall be so 
glad when we are again settled. You cannot 
understand how one feels without a home." 

“ Mother, you have a home with us." 

“ Yes, thank you, Cecelia, I know, and have 
enjoyed my visit with you and Eric very much 
but want my own home. It is always so with old 
people, I believe." 

“ Why, mother, you don't look old nor do you 
act like old folks. Everybody remarks about 
your youthful appearance." 


354 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“ Thank you, dear, for the compliment. I 
never expect to appear old. So many people as 
age begins to creep upon them seem to think 
it is their duty to assume all the disagreeable 
traits of old age by becoming petulant, satirical, 
meddlesome, careless and neglectful of their ap- 
pearance, making themselves as comical and 
ridiculous as possible. I do not believe these 
outlandish customs necessary to advanced age, 
and why should I thus inflict my family and 
the world by changing myself from a loving, 
thoughtful, considerate mother and citizen to 
a personally segregated nuisance. However, 
Cecelia, I can hardly be included in the juvenile 
list any longer, and hope to again soon have the 
proud privilege of overseeing my own little 
home, even though I have about reached the 
work limit myself. And then Dolores will have 
her home again instead of living in a boarding 
house. The poor child says she can hardly wait 
until I am with her. How lonely it will be for 
her when I go hence! If it were not for leaving 
her alone, I should not mind my departure, but 
God will care for her.” 

“ Yes, mother, but we all hope you may be 
spared long to bless our lives and cheer our 
drooping hearts. You are always so cheerful 
that we feel ashamed to yield to discourage- 
ments.” 

The watched-for letter finally arrived saying, 
“ Come at once. I have secured a nice place, the 
rent reasonable; telegraph for our furniture. I 
will have the house cleaned, furnished and ready 
for occupancy by the last of this week. Also 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 355 

engaged a good, old, colored woman to stay with 
us. I am progressing nicely with my school. 
My salary is lucrative and I feel assured our 
future prospects are brighter. Yes, mother 
dear, I am now in a position to care for you 
properly and, oh, how happy we shall be in our 
neatly-furnished little home together. Nothing 
but death shall part us. Aunt Drew is an old- 
time southern negro raised by the Molars of 
Virginia. She was owned when a child by Cap- 
tain Molar, grandfather of our good friend, 
Mrs. Southwick, of Peaceful View, is a fine 
cook, a good worker, and glad to get steady em- 
ployment in a southern family. You shall never 
work hard again. Your last years on earth shall 
be peaceful and joyous. Write me when to meet 
you.” 


CHAPTER XLI. 

ALONE, NO HOME, NO MOTHER. 

Mrs. Hegmeyher was so rejoiced and happy 
that she could not suppress the tears. Eric and 
Cecelia were also very much enthused, and the 
following Saturday afternoon, when the south- 
bound express stopped at a certain southern 
station a neat, well-dressed, aristocratic-looking 
old lady, her face beaming with smiles, joy and 
anticipation alighted and was soon embraced in 
the loving arms of her devoted daughter, the 
city kindergarten teacher. 

“ Oh, mother dear, you are here at last ! I am 


356 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

so happy ! Come this way. I have a cab waiting 
to carry us home, where Aunt Drew will have 
our supper smoking upon the table. She said 
when I started, ‘ Lawd, honey, de Missis will 
soon be heah. Now, suah, don’t stop on de 
way, ’cause Aunt Drew will done have suppah 
cooked and waitin’. She reckons it will be long 
time foeh you all done git back nohow. Specks 
it ’quires dat critter a right smart time ter tote 
yer up from de keers ! ’ Ah, how like old times 
it will be to have her ! I shall just close my eyes 
and imagine myself a child again, in my old 
Shenandoah Valley home, with old Aunt Bundy 
scolding and caressing me alternately ! ” 

True to her word, Aunt Drew was waiting 
supper and when Mrs. Hegmeyher stepped from 
the cab to the pavement she saw a grinning old 
black face pasted against the dining-room win- 
dow trying to get a peep at her new mistress. 
To say that dear woman was happy in her new 
home is putting it mildly. Words cannot ex- 
press the joy of her heart. Yes, she had her 
own home again, and Dolores, her earthly idol. 

All previous regards, hopes and ambitions had 
been concentrated into one never-dying love’ 
for this girl, and she in return cast aside every 
thought that did not advance her mother’s pleas- 
ure. They lived for each other, loved each 
other, walked together, talked together. Dolores 
read while her mother listened with attentive 
ears and watched the beloved features with 
pangs of jealous love, secretly thanking God at 
times that her love was not divided with another. 
Yes, this mother and daughter were bosom com- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 357 


panions, making their little home an earthly 
paradise where dark, dismal thoughts were not 
permitted, a haven of rest, within their own con- 
secrated hearts. Aunt Drew would frequently 
remark, “ The good Lawd nebber did bohn a 
nudder sitch a lady as dat dar Missis, and de 
Missie am a chip often der berry same brock. 
Bless yer heart, honey, dem never done said one 
sassy wod to dis nigger, ner squint one cross 
look arter no body. No, suh, dem dis smile 
sweet-like, and say nice, kind wods ebery time 
dey sees yer. Sometimes they speechify mighty 
powerful big words what I nebber hea’d afoeh, 
but I knows dey am somepin orful nice and fine, 
’cause dey allers look sortah happy, and teekled 
arter dem done sed ’em. Lawd, dat dar Missis 
am one ob der bressed Lawd’s ’deemed souls 
what corned down heah ter make der sinnehs con- 
sidah der ’stinction ’twixt demselves an’ de 
Lawd’s saints. Dey am sartin bohn ladies from 
de berry end of de longest haih on der heads 
to der very toe nails, and dat dar am suah. 
And dey love each odder the hardest I eber seed 
any mudder and chillins lobe. Is dey happy? 
Sure, dey am! Every second day-libe dis nig- 
ger nebber seed with her two peepers any folks 
’peah j is zackly so joyfied. It sartin do joy dis 
old brack nigger’s heart and sole to skivver sich 
lobley happyfication ! ” 

Aunt Drew’s crude remarks were well- 
founded for in this home not only the holy love 
between mother and child existed but both had 
sacrificed everything on earth dear to their 
hearts but each other and were bound together 


358 THE SHADOW OR A CURSE, 

with strong cords of love and sympathy as they 
had been woven, twisted and interlaced by the 
heart-rending experience of two shadowed lives 
as they walked side by side, hand in hand, shar- 
ing alike each other’s sorrows and joys. Nor 
did they alloy the bliss of the home by rehearsals 
of the disagreeable past. Dolores proved a very 
successful instructress and was well liked and 
popular, while the sweet mother won the heart 
of every one she met — and they soon gained 
the confidence, friendship and esteem of many 
citizens of their new home town. One Tuesday, 
Dolores had been invited out for lunch and did 
not return home until evening bringing a friend 
with her for dinner. Aunt Drew had the repast 
ready to serve when they arrived and the guest 
was immediately ushered into the dining-room 
where Mrs. Hegmeyher awaited them. Dolores 
kissed her mother and remarked, 

“ Mamma, your face looks flushed ; are you 
not feeling well ? ” 

“ It is only a slight cold, daughter. I shall 
be all right to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, mother, what if you should become ill,” 
and the girl’s face grew serious. 

Mrs. Hegmeyher ate but little that evening 
and coughed frequently. 

“ Mother, you must lie down and let me call a 
physician. I fear you are going to be quite sick. 
You have eaten comparatively nothing.” 

Aunt Drew, who was serving, exclaimed, 

“ Lawd, yes, honey, the Missis suah am pow- 
eful sick ’cause she nebber done eat any dis 
bressed day, and she done say her chist got a 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 359 

sortah hurtin’ inter it — somepin like de brown 
kitis or de camony onter de lungs.” 

“ Oh, mamma, have you a pain in your chest ? 
How long since it first disturbed you ? ” 

“ Just to-day, dear. But do not worry, I think 
it only a slight attack of bronchial trouble, noth- 
ing serious, and a physician is not necessary.” 

“ Yes, we must call one, mother. It is better 
to have one when he is not needed, than to have 
neglected it until too late when the case actually 
requires medical aid. Dr. Handlon is an old 
friend of Uncle Byron’s and reputed a very fine 
physician. Shall I ’phone him ? ” 

“ Wait until morning, daughter.” 

“ No, no, mamma dear, I cannot. Your 
health and life means too much to me. I dare 
not neglect a thing of so great importance even 
though you do advise it.” 

Her mother smiled, saying, “ Very well, child, 
do as you like. The girl summoned Dr. Hand- 
Ion who diagnosed the case as catarrhal bron- 
chitis. Her pulse was quite rapid accompanied 
by high temperature, but the next morning was 
reduced to normal and she rested fairly com- 
fortably. Dolores ’phoned an assistant to take 
her place in school and carefully watched by 
the side of her loved one day and night. No 
one else was permitted to administer to her. 
This daughter issued each dose of medicine, and 
prepared each article of food. Not even a glass 
of water was given her by other hands than 
those of her anxious daughter. Dr. Handlon 
came twice a day and assured the distressed girl 
that her mother’s condition was in no way pre- 


360 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

carious. She had done much better than he had 
expected, was entirely out of danger, and could 
sit up each day if she liked, but must not go out 
of the room for a few days as a relapse might 
prove more serious and terminate fatally. Do- 
lores urged her to remain in bed, but the physi- 
cian had given his consent and Mrs. Hegmeyher 
was weary and insisted on sitting by the fire a 
part of each day. For five days her pulse and 
temperature were normal in the morning with a 
slight elevation at night. The cough was not 
severe and comparatively little pain accompanied 
it. But the sixth day her symptoms were not 
so encouraging and Dolores asked the physician 
if she should telegraph their relatives. He re- 
plied, 

“ No, child, there is no immediate danger, 
and I would not frighten them. You might 
write that your mother is ill and we will keep 
them posted, and that if any complications should 
arise you will wire them.” 

It was with a saddened heart and trembling 
hand that Dolores penned four letters that day, 
addressed to Eric Hegmeyher, Cameron Waud, 
Byron Waud and Mrs. J. B. Southwick, her 
mother’s most trusted and beloved friend then 
she, with a dear Christian friend, one of God’s 
earthly saints, whose entire life had been spent 
for others, took their places by the bedside of this 
idolized mother. Oh, how anxiously she watched 
that dear face, fearing some unfavorable symp- 
tom should arise. The patient slept fairly well 
and said she felt no severe pain but the fever 
registered quite high all through the night. Do- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 361 

lores would stoop and lovingly kiss the face of 
her dear mother again and again, while she 
prayed without ceasing, summoning all her will 
power and faith in a supreme heavenly Father 
to sustain, keep and restore her last earthly 
treasure. The morning of the seventh day, 
double pneumonia had developed. Mrs. Heg- 
meyher had for years suffered with organic heart 
trouble and these complications together with 
her advanced age gave little to hope from. Tel- 
egrams were sent for relatives and friends, also 
a trained nurse was sent for and another physi- 
cian was called in for consultation, but all to no 
avail. She sank rapidly. In the afternoon she 
clasped her daughter’s hand, drew it to her 
face and kissed it tenderly, saying: 

“ Ah, how mother loves her baby girl ! ” 

The girl’s voice trembled as she replied, “ Yes, 
darling mamma, and, oh, how much your baby 
loves her beautiful mother.” 

“ Yes, yes, child, mother knows. Dolores, 
dear, it will soon be eight years since I last saw 
my beloved husband. We have never mentioned 
his name only in prayer. But, darling, I love 
him still and have prayed almost without ceasing 
that his soul might be redeemed. He is not 
dead — that report was false. I intuitively feel 
that he still lives, and, dear, our prayers will 
be answered. The effectual fervent prayer of 
the righteous availeth much, and I feel the assur- 
ance in my heart to-day that he will be saved. 
We shall be an unbroken family in the home of 
the redeemed. You shall see your father again 
and know that he has made his peace with God; 


362 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

and, dear, tell him I have forgiven and forgotten 
all. I shall never see his beloved face again on 
earth but that doesn’t matter; I shall wait for 
him at the pearly gates of glory where sin and 
sorrow dare not enter and parting shall be no 
more. Tell him, dear, that I love him as I did 
the day we were wed, and the joys of heaven 
would not be complete without him. There, no 
shadow of a curse can ever engulf us. Ah, 
my child, there will be no saloons in heaven, no 
evil tempter to change noble husbands and 
fathers into heartless maniacs and inebriates. 
Dolores, I want you and Eric to be kind to your 
poor old sinful father, just as you always were. 
Forgive him and help him to become a good 
man. When he hears I am gone he will reform 
and return for he loves me still. Remember, 
it was not your father committed all those dread- 
ful deeds. No, no, it was the whiskey he 
drank — he was not strong enough to resist it, 
and he fell. Ah, the shame that our country per- 
mits thousands of these deadly life and soul de- 
stroying saloons to thrive in our country, allur- 
ing and enticing men and boys to ruin and death, 
beggarly beyond description. Better a thousand 
times had Nelse Criss and Bushy Johnson loos- 
ened a cage of ferocious animals in our beautiful 
home to devour us together, instantly, while 
free from the curse, than drag us through the 
depths of agony, sin, shame, poverty and pain to 
a slow but sure death at their hands. But, dar- 
ling, what account must they give when brought 
face to face with a just, avenging God — with 
thousands of innocent victims as witnesses 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 363 


against them? Can they expect to escape just 
condemnation? Ah, no; but I forgive them — 
vengeance belongs to God, the allwise and just 
Savior! Darling, always stand firm against 
liquor. Do not touch it, even as medicine, and 
do not marry a man who, you know, drinks even 
one small glass of wine, or intoxicants of any 
kind. It is better to live alone in the world 
with a broken heart than wed a man with an 
acquired appetite that must bring you and your 
entire family eventually to ruin. Be sure the 
man you wed loves you and that you love him 
and that he is worthy of your love. Better wed 
late in life and know your husband comes under 
the proper influences than while young under 
the slightest glimmer of a shadow. I have lived 
long enough to know there are many worse 
things in this world than an old maid. A life of 
single blessedness is preferable to wedlock un- 
sanctified by God and cursed by iniquity and 
sin. Tell Eric my last request was that he 
should never under any circumstances touch one 
drop of liquor, not even for medicinal pur- 
poses.” 

“ Mother, I have telegraphed Eric, Cecelia, 
Uncle Byron, Uncle Cameron and Mrs. South- 
wick to come at once.” 

“ Yes, dear, but they cannot possibly be here 
before to-morrow and I shall not see them. 
Darling, I am going to leave you in a few 
hours. ’Ere darkness again shadows a sleeping 
world, I shall have left earth and entered the 
mansion prepared for me by Jesus in the realms 
of Glory! ” 


364 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

Dolores knelt by the bed of that beloved 
form, passionately kissing the parched lips, and 
tears she vainly tried to restrain streamed down 
her burning cheeks as she sobbed out in broken 
words, 

“ Oh, no, no, mother, it cannot be ! God will 
not let you leave me ! I cannot live without you ! 
Oh, if you go, I must die too ! God will surely 
not leave me here in this wicked world alone — 
entirely alone, without one person on earth to 
love. Oh, mamma, mamma, it will kill me! 
While you are with me I have everything to live 
for, but with you my last earthly treasure van- 
ishes. Oh, beautiful mother, please do not 
leave your baby girl. You must not — Oh, you 
cannot go. Oh, mother, mother, take me too! 
I have no one left on earth who cares for me and 
I want to go with you.” 

The dying mother drew the tear-stained face 
down on the pillow by hers and smoothed the dis- 
heveled hair as she whispered softly, 

“ No, darling, you will not be alone. God 
will always remain with you, ready to love, 
cheer, bless and encourage my child. He will 
be father, mother, counsellor and guide. 
Mother knows how lonely it will be for her 
poor little girl, but, dear, you have always said, 
* Mother, for your sake I am willing to suffer 
anything/ and now, for my sake, endure bravely 
the agony caused by our separation. It will not 
be long — life is short — only a little probationary 
state where we prepare ourselves for eternity. 
The one important thing in this world is to live 
each day prepared to answer the summons, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 365 

* come up higher.’ Death is not a thing to be 
dreaded by those who love the Lord. My earthly 
mission is about finished and I shall soon rest in 
peace with Jesus. Do not think of me as dead; 
the soul never dies. When you behold this lit- 
tle tenement of clay, cold and lifeless, do not 
call it ‘ mother,’ for mother will not be there. 
She will have put on immortality and ascended 
to God to await your coming. But, dear, your 
earthly sojourn is not yet quite finished. God 
has a mission for my darling child. Then an- 
swer His call. Say, ‘ Father, thy servant hear- 
eth, take me and make me what thou wilt.’ Place 
thy hand in his and trust — never flinch from 
duty, though the world condemn you. Stand 
for justice, truth and right, God will never leave 
or forsake you. Come, let us repeat the Twenty- 
third psalm together. It has always been such 
a comfort to me.” 

Her minister had just entered with several 
other friends and all silently knelt around the 
death bed of this saintly woman and solemnly 
repeated : 

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want, 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, 

He leadeth me beside the still waters, 

He restoreth my soul ! 

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his 
name sake 

Yea though I walk through the valley in the shadow 
of death 

I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me. 

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me ; 

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of 
mine enemies. 


366 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

Thou annointest my head with oil. 

My cup runneth over, 

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the 
days of my life, 

And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” 

All voices were hushed but that of the dying 
woman, which rose clear and sweet in earnest 
prayer to God, invoking his blessings on the 
world. Then she slowly and distinctly called 
the names of many loved ones, especially plead- 
ing for his daily peace, guidance and comfort on 
her lonely orphan girl and her boy, Eric. Thank- 
ing him again and again for the peaceful parting 
hour, she solemnly said, “ Amen,” and the 
minister responded, “ God’s will be done.” All 
arose but Dolores. For several minutes silence 
reigned. A strange heavenly smile played about 
the lips of this beautiful woman, this martyred 
wife, and raising her little white hand she said, 

“ This world is not that large to me. But, 
daughter, it is hard, very hard to leave you so 
bereft of earthly ties. Cast your care on Jesus. 
You have a great work to do for the master yet. 
Do not forget your little niece, Monica, superin- 
tend her education and be to her a mother. God 
has spared my life to raise you, but Monica has 
never known a mother’s love. Virginia was 
called from earth ’ere the child was old enough 
to remember her face. Try to let her fill the 
vacancy in your lonely life. Advise and talk to 
the child of her mother, God and heaven. Tell 
her, her grandmother has gone on to live with 
her mother, and we shall anxiously watch and 
wait at the beautiful gate for the rest of you. I 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 367 

want you, Monica, Eric and Cecelia to be Chris- 
tians and meet me where God’s hand shall wipe 
all tears away. Tell Byron, Cameron, Mr. and 
Mrs. Southwick that our separation will be 
short. We shall clasp glad hands in glory and 
sing hymns with the redeemed souls and angels 
of light. Darling, my only pain in going is be- 
cause I must leave you so lonely. But, dear, 
you have been so good to me, you will never 
have anything to regret. You have always been 
so kind and thoughtful to your mother. Try to 
bear up bravely, trust God — he will sustain you 
and never leave you alone. Kiss me, dear, I am 
going. Meet me there.” Her voice rang out in 
heavenly tones: 

44 Oh, come, angel band, 

Come and around me stand. 

Oh, bear me away on your snowy wings, 

To my bright starlit home. 

Oh, bear me away on your snowy wings, 

To my eternal home.” 

She smiled and extended her two hands up- 
ward, as she whispered, 

44 Blessed — Jesus, — art — thou — come — at 
last — to take — me home?” The faint breath 
ceased and the nurse whispered, “ It is all over ; 
she is gone.” 

Dolores leaning over the silent form ex- 
claimed, “ Oh, mother, mother, don’t you know 
me ? ” The gray eyes opened once more and 
looked fondly upon her child and she nodded 
her head; the pale lips extended for one more 


368 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

kiss. The heart-broken girl pressed them fondly 
with her own, and Lillian Constance Waud Heg- 
meyher was free from pain. Her soul was with 
her God. The shadow of the curse was at last 
lifted and she had gone to dwell in the eternal 
sunshine of God's love. 

Dolores raised her tear-stained face and 
looked earnestly at the silent form before her. 
The girl's cheeks were blanched. Her lips tightly 
set and those large gray eyes looked as though 
they would burst from their sockets. No one 
present will ever forget the look of inexpressible 
agony and despair depicted in that visage. Not a 
sound was heard; she sat as if transfixed, view- 
ing the last mortal remains of her earthly idol. 
Great beads of perspiration dropped from her 
forehead and her hands were as icy cold as the 
chilly brow of the departed. The nurse fondly 
placed an arm about the girl and whispered 
gently, “ Come, Miss Hegmeyher, will you not 
leave the room with me? Be strong, dear, and 
endure all as bravely as you can.” 

Dolores slowly shook her head as she ex- 
claimed, in a strange, unnatural voice, 

“ Ah, Miss Reynolds, I have no one to be 
strong for now, no one to endure for. I have 
endured much for her and she much more for 
me. We were at last settled in our little home 
and happy in each other’s love. She was all I 
had and now she is gone, gone, forever. Oh, 
God, why did you take her? What have I done 
that I should be so punished? Alone, alone, I 
am left alone — without home or mother! Oh, 
mother, if I could only go with you! Alas, not 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 369 

even the peace brought through death is mine! 
I must live alone, forsaken by God and humanity. 
Yes, God has forsaken me too. I have prayed to 
him, trusted him, believed in his tenderness and 
mercy, and now he has taken my last earthly 
treasure, my mother, my idol. Every earthly 
ambition, each thought of my life was en- 
couraged and sweetened by her counsel, love and 
sympathy. Now, no one cares what becomes of 
me. If I succeed, there is no one to rejoice: If 
I fail, no heart will be saddened. If I furnish 
a home, there is no one to enjoy it. If I am ill, 
there is no loving hand and soft voice to soothe 
my pain. If I die, there will be no one to grieve 
over my departure, no one to weep at my bier. 
Alone, alone, I am left alone. No home, no 
mother ! No one to love ! ” 

No home, no mother! No one to love! ” 

In vain they tried to soothe and console her, 
speaking of her brother, niece and uncles, but, 
with a far-off look, she would respond, 

“ Ah, yes, they love me ; but they all have their 
own and love them most, and I am alone.” 

All night, the same piteous wail pealed forth 
from the girl’s chamber. “ Alone, alone ! No 
home, no mother ! ” The next day when Eric 
and her uncles arrived their efforts to soothe 
her were futile. She had also contracted cold, 
coughed continuously, had a pain in her side and 
run a high temperature. Her only response to 
their sympathetic appeals were, “ Alone, alone ! 
No home, no mother ! ” The physician forbid 
her leaving her room but she refused to remain. 
Ah, no, she would go with her mother to the 


370 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

tomb, and three days after the mother’s demise 
Dolores followed a hearse as it was slowly 
driven through the streets to the little church 
where Rev. Critten preached the funeral ser- 
mon of Lillian Constance Waud Hegmeyher, a 
martyrd wife and sainted mother. Many beau- 
tiful tributes were paid her by the pastor and 
others present. Sweet hymns were chanted, but 
human nature could not conceive nor the English 
language express the true value of the life that 
had been extinguished. God alone had recorded 
her deeds of love and devotion to humanity and 
had called her home to be rewarded with a crown 
of glory. Yes, hers would be a diadem of price- 
less value, studded with rare jewels, the reward 
for a life of sacrifice. Her earthly remains were 
taken to the Old West Virginia home and laid 
in its last silent repose. The little three-by-six 
home she had so sweetly mentioned to Bushy 
Johnson was her’s now and the avaricious world 
could not call on her for a deed, or inflict pain 
by stinging rebukes and criticisms. She was at 
last beyond the sorrows of earth, for the shadow 
no longer rested upon her life. The hand of 
God had lifted it forever. 

After the interment of her mother Dolores 
remained two days with their friends Mrs. 
Southwick and daughter. Eric and Cecelia tried 
to persuade her to go home with them, but she 
firmly refused. 

“ No, brother, I must work. If I should re- 
main unemployed I should die or go mad. I 
shall work, work day and night, and give myself 
no time to think or meditate. I shall return 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 371 

South to-morrow morning and take charge of my 
school the next day. Tell me the things you 
would like of mother’s furniture and I shall send 
them to you — also, all relics and pictures. The 
remainder I shall sell. I never want to see them 
again. I dare not look at them. The associa- 
tions are too sacred. I shall board. It would 
not be wise for me to try to live alone. I shall 
never have a home again. I am alone, alone ; no 
home, no mother. Uncle Byron, pray for me ; I 
need your prayers, my faith is weak. I do not 
see my way clear as I once did. Everything 
seems dark and appalling. The things I once 
loved I now dread. I cannot pray as I once did. 
My prayers seem meaningless, void. Oh, uncle, 
I am soured on the world, and resentful even 
with God. I cannot love him as I did for he has 
taken from me my last earthly treasure, all I 
had to love, my beautiful, beautiful mother. I 
supplicated and importuned him to save her life, 
but he took her. I then pleaded that I too, might 
go but my request was not granted. I am left 
to suffer alone. If he be a loving God, why has 
he thus forsaken me? Yes, I am a lone orphan 
girl, born under the shadow of a curse, named 
Dolores, sorrowful, forsaken by God and human- 
ity, no home, no mother, no one to love. I once 
believed I would be permitted to lift the shadow 
from our family and return with mother to the 
old homestead. I did restore many of the old 
treasures and her last days were happy, but 
now I have no incentive to work. If I should 
reclaim the old home I have no one to occupy it. 
If I clear the family name of insolvency there 


372 THE SHADOW OF. A CURSE, 


is no one to rejoice. Yes, I am left alone, noth- 
ing to do but kill time. What is more to be 
dreaded than a life without a purpose ? ” 

“ My child, you must not allow your grief to 
alienate you from humanity or cause you to 
doubt God’s love and mercy. Your sainted 
mother suffered more than you have ever known. 
Yet her entire life was spent without a murmur. 
Had she lived to see the old homestead reclaimed, 
she could have never been happy in it. The en- 
vironments would have been so changed that 
they would have only served as a reminiscence of 
old happy days that could never again return. 
Her last days were more enjoyably spent with 
you, her idol, in her little southern home, with 
nothing to disturb or alloy her final repose, than 
they could have possibly been in the old 
homestead where her fondest hopes had been 
wrecked and her highest ambitions crushed by 
the sins of others. I believe had she been per- 
mitted to select the place for her departure it 
would have been in that quiet, little home of the 
South, alone with her faithful, beloved daughter 
and old Aunt Drew. God has spared your 
mother to you many years and each hour of her 
life was spent for the betterment of humanity. 
She lived for others. Her work has been well 
done— her mission fulfilled — and she longed for 
rest. God has taken her to live in the mansion 
prepared for the faithful. There she will calmly 
rest until you join her. Then, my child, live for 
God and humanity. Fulfill your earthly mission 
well, even as she did hers. Strive to improve the 
life of each person with whom you may be as- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 373 


sociated, live that you may be approved by 
mother in heaven, even as you were on earth. 
There is no life without a purpose. Each soul 
was born for a divine purpose. Then seek to 
know your calling and faithfully execute it. 
Your trials are no greater than you can endure 
with God’s help. Ask him and he will sustain 
you. Cast your care on him. He has promised 
to be a father to the orphan.” 

Beneath the sod was made a grave, 

With grief I cannot smother, 

Borne off by death’s cold tidal wave 
There rests my sainted mother. 

Alone, Alone, I am left alone, 

My heart with anguish riven, 

While she has gone to yonder’s throne 
To live with God in heaven. 

In vain they try to soothe my pain, 

I feel so sad, forsaken, 

But grief comes o’er my heart again, 

My mother’s from me taken. 

r "' try but cannot fill her place 



leart turns to no other, 


I weeping pray and plead for grace, 
My home’s without a mother. 

Christ Jesus filled thy mother’s heart 
Of death she had no fear, 

And when life’s cord was cut apart 
Her Savior then was near. 

The Angels now in heaven sing, 

And shout the old, sweet story, 

A soul we up to J esus bring 
To dwell with him in glory. 


374 THE SHADOW OF 4 A CURSE, 

Thy mother dwells in bliss sublime, 

Yet still near you she’ll hover. 

If you but trust in Jesus’ love 
In heaven you will see your mother. 

Then dry your tears the one so mild, 
Your Jesus is your mother, 

He’ll never leave the orphan child, 

Your Savior and your brother.” 


CHAPTER XLII. 

IN A SOUTHERN HOSPITAL. 

It was with a heavy heart Dolores Hegmey- 
her, gowned in crape, wended her way each day 
to and from the school-room. She who had al- 
ways assumed a happy joyous mood, even ’mid 
the most dire reverses and disappointments, now 
presented to the world a face marked with lines 
of sorrow, agony and discouragements. She 
only smiled when with children or in the school- 
room, and then it was with but a vain attempt 
fading away into an expression of misery. She 
never left her boarding house only through 
school hours. Nor would she attend religious 
worship, for she could not endure the thought of 
sitting where her mother’s earthly remains last 
rested for Rev. Critten’s benediction. Her 
friends marked the change and sought to console 
her, but their efforts were of no avail. She 
slept little, had no appetite, and was in fact 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 375 

almost a nervous wreck. One Saturday, a dear 
friend persuaded her to make a visit in the 
country. Sabbath morning they drove to church. 
During the services, Dolores was seized with a 
pain in her side such as she had never before 
known. She was afraid to leave the church, for 
her friend was the organist and would have been 
frightened had she missed her from the pew. 
She did not stand during the closing hymn and 
benediction and when her friend approached the 
seat she fould Dolores pale and almost in a state 
of coma. She was placed in a carriage and rap- 
idly driven to the farm house where a physician 
was summoned who diagnosed the case as ap- 
pendicitis. She grew rapidly worse and was 
hastened to a hospital. Eric arrived the next 
day. The girl's life was almost despaired of and 
an operation found necessary. In fact, she could 
not live without it, but her vitality was at a very 
low ebb, and she in no physical condition to en- 
dure it. Would she live until her system could 
be built up? The girl lay most of the time in a 
semi-conscious condition, taking little interest 
in anything about her. She had never been ill 
before without her mother by her side to minister 
to her wants and soothe her with tender words 
and caresses. When conscious tears would steal 
down her pallid cheek as she whispered in a half- 
audible tone, “ No home, no mother. Nothing 
to live for, no one to love. Father in heaven, 
take me; let me rest in the warm earth by the 
side of mother, and my soul with Thee ! ” The 
little nurse who had seemingly become very 
much attached to her patient would clasp the 


32 § THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

white hand in hers, kiss the fevered brow and 
whisper sweet, gentle words of love and sym- 
pathy. One day she said, 

“ My dear, please do not say that, it pains me 
more than you know. You have some one to 
live for, some one who loves you dearly. Live 
for me. I need your love and friendship. I have 
neither father or mother. My brothers and sis- 
ters are all married but one and her time is so 
thoroughly occupied that I see little of her. I 
too am lonely, and long for a friend just such 
as you.” 

“ Ah, Miss Jewell, I know you like me. You 
are fond of me. Such friendship usually exists 
between the true nurse and her patient. You 
have been exceptionally kind and I appreciate it. 
The friendship is reciprocated. I have friends, 
many friends, the numerous floral gifts received 
each day making my room a perfect bower of 
flowers prove beyond a doubt that I possess the 
friendship of many. There was a time when 
this would have satisfied and made me happy but 
now it is not so. Mine has always been a busy 
life. I have always had some one person to live 
for, to plan for, to work for, to give my heart 
and life undivided to. Now she has gone, and 
my life seems meaningless, void. Yes, Miss 
Jewell, I know you like me and I can never for- 
get your kindness, but I want my mother — some 
one to serve and be served.” 

“ Ah, Miss Hegmeyher, like is not the word. 
It does not express my feelings for you. I love 
you, and need your friendship, love and counsel. 
I do not expect to fill your mother’s place in 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 377 

your heart, but let me be your sister, confide in 
me, trust me. Be my dearest and most devoted 
friend until death parts us, and try to live for 
my sake. Believe me, dear, your life is just as 
dear to me as the life of my sister and your death 
would pain me just as deeply as her’s. I shall 
love you with all my heart always. We cannot 
save you without some effort on your part. 
Will you not try to get well for my sake, darling, 
little sister? For my sake live! ” 

Tears started afresh and dropped from the 
cheeks of Dolores. The little nurse had touched 
a tender chord in her aching heart. She drew 
the hands accustomed to toil down to her lips, 
and kissed them fondly, saying, 

“ Yes, dear, dear girl, God has surely sent 
you to console me, and, if it be his will that I 
should recover, I shall live for you, Him and 
humanity. Kneel by my bed and let us pray 
together.” 

And in that bare hospital chamber, two 
orphan girls, one lying on, perhaps, her death- 
bed, the other reverently kneeling by her side, 
offered up a petition to the supreme Creator of 
the universe for protection and, if it be his will, 
restoration of health. 

Six weeks had elapsed ’ere Dolores Heg- 
meyher was in a condition fit for an operation. 
The friendship between her and the nurse had 
ripened into the most sacred sisterly regard. 
Miss Jewell had won the love and confidence of 
the suffering girl and, when she was able to talk, 
they had many pleasant conversations together. 
Dolores had lost her reserve. The gentle, loving 


378 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

touch and sympathetic words had by degrees 
wound themselves ’mid the meshes of the suf- 
ferer’s heart-strings giving her a new incentive 
to live. Yes, she loved this girl — not as she 
loved her beautiful mother, that love was sacred 
until eternity; not as she had loved Horace Nor- 
fleet — the love for him that had burned the in- 
ner recesses of her heart had been poisoned and 
buried. But she dare not think of it even now. 
It had been interred alive, and meditation might 
cause it to spring up anew. She had no right 
totlove him, he belonged to another. She must 
never see his face again. She would never wed 
any man, but she loved this nurse as she had 
Ezell Vandergast and Louise Martinez, as her 
dear friend, and if God willed that she should 
live she would sacrifice for her as she had them. 
She would be her dearest friend, her sister. 

The day of the operation arrived and just 
before the anesthetic was given Dolores read a 
chapter in the Bible and calmly submitted her 
case to God. She longed for mother and heaven, 
but if her work had been incomplete she was will- 
ing to do the Master’s bidding, and serve her 
earthly probationary state. “ God’s will be 
done.” Her condition was found to be very com- 
plicated. She rallied from the operation but it 
was not successful. Day after day she lingered. 
Sometimes her symptoms were a little more 
favorable. Then again, her condition would 
seem hopeless. Her sufferings were indescrib- 
able. She gradually grew worse. It seemed 
that she could neither die nor live. The faithful 
nurse could not be persuaded to leave the bed- 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 379 

side of her friend. One day the physicians held 
a consultation and decided another operation the 
last resort, the only possible chance for life. 
When Dolores was approached on the subject, a 
faint, wan smile played about her lips, as she 
replied, 

“ Do you think it possible I shall recover ? ” 

“ Ah, Miss Hegmeyher, I cannot deceive you. 
It is possible, all things are possible. But I fear 
not probable. You have a fighting chance if 
operated upon ; but death is certain, if not. 
You may live a few weeks but can never be any 
better. If operated upon, you may go at once, 
and you may live and get well. What we shall 
do, you must decide for yourself. We will do 
all in our power to save you.” 

“ Doctor, we will have the operation. I am 
not afraid of death. I am ready to die, and do 
not care to live another day if I must suffer like 
this. My mother has gone and I have no one 
to especially live for. But, doctor, I intuitively 
feel that I shall not die. As I near the end I 
see that my work is not finished and I shall be 
required to remain on earth to complete it. 
God’s will, not mine be done.” 

“ Brave girl ! I, too, believe you will live. 
We shall operate upon you to-morrow at ten 
o’clock. Keep up your courage.” 

“ I shall do that ; I have no fear of death.” 

After the physician left, clasping the hand of 
the nurse, she said, “ Miss Jewell, my dear 
friend, was my decision wise? Do you want 
me to try another operation ? ” 

“ Oh, my dear, please do not ask me! If we 


380 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

could only foretell the results! I hope for the 
best. But, oh, should it fail, what would I do? 
Sometimes I fear. Dear, would you like to go 
home to your brother? If so, I shall take you, 
and remain with you until you get well or while 
you live.” 

“ No, my dear Miss Jewell, we shall proceed 
with the operation. I trust myself to your 
care. God will direct you. Will you promise 
to assist with the operation and not leave me 
while unconscious? If I should not live, take 
my body to West Virginia and have it interred by 
mother. Kiss me just before they give the ether 
and hold my hands in yours, as mother would 
have done.” 

“ Yes, darling sister, I shall do just as you 
wish. I shall also pray without ceasing for your 
recovery.” 

With her own hands Miss Jewell prepared the 
operating room and each thing to be used dur- 
ing the operation. She would not trust the 
work in the hands of another. “ You see,” she 
said, “ I am responsible. Her life means much 
to me. Oh, if she should die it would nearly 
kill me! I dare not think of it. She must, she 
will live ! ” 

The next morning Miss Jewell prepared her 
friend for the operation, read a chapter and 
they both prayed. When the physician entered 
the room with the anesthetic the nurse kissed the 
parched lips, and clasped the emaciated hands. 
The patient closed her eyes and slowly repeated 
the Twenty-third Psalm, while she whispered, 
“ Yea, though I walk through the valley of the 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 381 

shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for thou 
art with me.” Her voice faltered and she was 
asleep. When the girl again regained conscious- 
ness she heard some one saying, 

“ Miss Jewell, aren’t you going to get any din- 
ner to-day?” and a familiar voice whispered/ 
“ No, no, I cannot eat — I want no dinner. Be 
still.” 

“ Miss Jewell, that is all nonsense — you must 
eat. You are killing yourself trying to save 
the life of one as good as dead now. Miss Heg- 
meyher must die. There is not a ghost of a show 
for her, and you may as well give her up first 
as last. You will have it to do soon.” 

“ No, no, she must not die. I tell you, Miss 
Hegmeyher shall live.” 

Dolores lay thinking what did it all mean. 
She was to have been operated upon. Had they 
found her case hopeless and decided to not oper- 
ate. One would infer so from the conversation 
she had just heard. And Miss Jewell would not 
leave her even to eat. How noble of her! She 
had hoped to awake in another world with 
mother, sister and Jesus. But it had not been 
God’s will, and opening her eyes she saw her 
beloved nurse bowing over her. Tears sparkled 
on her cheeks, while a watch was clasped in one 
hand and the fingers of the other rested lightly 
on her pulse. Dolores whispered, “ Is it all 
over?” A radiant smile burst on the face of 
Miss Jewell as she replied, 

“ Yes, my dear, and you will be a well woman, 
thank God ! ” 

The girl’s strength returned slowly. Her re- 


382 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

covery was not rapid, and more than another 
month elapsed ’ere she could be removed from 
the hospital. The nurse and patient spent many 
pleasant hours together, reading, talking and 
planning for their future. They would be 
friends, sisters, boon companions forever. The 
four months’ association in the hospital had 
formed a friendship never to be severed. The 
day Dolores left a friend remarked, “ Miss Heg- 
meyher you have had a long siege in that dismal 
old hospital. I suppose you will detest the sight 
of one as long as you live.” 

“ No, you are mistaken. I had a long, painful 
siege, but my life was not dismal. My bright- 
faced little nurse, my guardian angel, my 
little Wee, as I nicknamed her, brightened, 
cheered and encouraged me, as no other 
has been able to do since my mother’s death. 
Yes, I owe my present existence to her love 
and care, and shall adore her forever. Even 
though she should forsake, repulse and 
scorn me in the future, I shall love her 
still, and gladly serve her in any way pos- 
sible, and shall always love the dear, old hos- 
pital where my sufferings were relieved, and my 
heart cheered. And the white cap and uniform 
where e'er I see it shall ever be considered by 
me the highest badge of honor a woman can 
wear, and receive the most profound respect and 
homage in fond memory of little Wee. The 
girl friends parted ’mid tears, and Dolores prom- 
ised to return to her position as soon as her 
strength would permit. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 383 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

DEATH OF E. MARSHALL HEGMEYHER. 

At the home of Eric Hegmeyher a surprise 
and shock awaited Dolores. Her father had re- 
turned after his wife’s death, as she had pre- 
dicted and was now living with his son. How 
he had changed ! She would not have known 
him had she met him elsewhere. His hair and 
beard was snowy white, his shoulders bowed, 
and he walked with a cane. The rich, blue eyes 
looked faded and expressionless; his features 
were wrinkled and distorted ; his limbs shook and 
tottered as he walked. Yes, E. Marshall Heg- 
meyher looked old and decrepid beyond his years. 
The life of debauchery had left its mark, show- 
ing the effects of a wasted life. Eric carried the 
frail girl in his arms from the carriage to the 
house and placed her on a couch. She was ex- 
hausted from the trip and when her brother 
said, 

“ Sister, father is here and wishes to see you. 
Shall I call him in ? ” 

A deep sigh escaped her lips. Her hands 
shook, and her breath seemed to stop as she 
whispered, “Father, father! Yes, in a minute. 
Wait — bring me a drink of water first.” 

Her entire past life seemed to pass before her 
as she lay there with her eyes closed ; their happy 
childish home; her knowledge of her father’s 


384 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


habits, the lilac bush where she went for secret 
prayer; leaving the happy home; Nelse Criss; 
loss of their wealth; father’s abuse to beautiful 
mother; Virginia’s marriage and death; Bushy 
Johnson; mother’s pale face; leaving grand- 
mother’s home at Peaceful View; father’s heart- 
less farewell when she started to college ; old col- 
lege days at C — ; her return to the little hovel of 
poverty called home; mother’s and Eric’s sad, 
sweet smiles and their welcome home, where 
home really no longer existed; father’s cruel 
grasp and blows; days of suffering before her 
recovery; that last awful night in the cottage, 
with father a rum-crazed maniac, with revolver 
in hand, ready to murder her and mother; the 
long hours of watching until dawn when she 
could steal the weapon from beneath his 
pillow and rescue mother; the last fare- 
well between father, mother and herself ; how 
mother had fainted from fright, hunger and 
exhaustion; how she had carried that loved 
one to the home of Mrs. South wick and 
secured food and rest for her ; the happy 

little home with mother and Eric at K 

ville; the friendship and death of Ezell Vander- 
gast; the burial and death of the unknown wo- 
man, unlawfully bearing her father’s name; the 
little home mortgaged ; the courtship and re- 
jection of Kennard Mannington, the marriage of 
Eric Hegmeyher and Cecelia Remalia; Eric’s 
illness; her love for Horace Norfleet and his 
treachery; the selling of the little home; her 
kindergarten work; the unalloyed joy of the lit- 
tle home in the South ; mother’s death ; the four 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 385 

months in the hospital; and at last she was to 
meet face to face the author of their disgrace and 
sorrow, her father. Was he alone the cause of 
all this pain? No, it was the liquor he drank. 
He had been taught to drink it in his boyhood 
home and was too weak to resist its influence 
after he grew to manhood. The parents were 
equally responsible; also, the saloonkeepers who 
enticed him to ruin, that they might fill their 
coffers with his gold, and the government had 
granted a license to these unprincipled, soul- 
and-home-destroyers for a pittance of a 
revenue, while many professed Christian men 
had voted for these avaricious, heartless officials. 
Yes, E. Marshall Hegmeyher was only one of 
many to soon give an account for the destruction 
and happiness of his happy home and family, 
and thousands of other like him. Dolores 
opened her eyes and tried to smile as she said, 
“ Thank you, brother, the water has refreshed 
me ; you may call father, now.” 

The feeble, decrepit old man tottered into the 
room and seated himself by the cot. The girl 
felt as though she would shriek out, but forced 
a smile instead as she kissed the furrowed brow, 
clasped the palsied hand and whispered, 

“ I am glad to see you, father — so glad to see 
you again ! ” 

The old man bowed his head and sobbed like 
a child. “ Oh, Dolores, my poor, suffering, 
wronged child — can you ever forgive me? ” 

“ Yes, father, I forgive freely, and mother did 
also! She bid me tell you she loved you still 
and would wait for you in heaven where sin 


386 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

dared not enter and parting would be no more.” 

“ Ah, my child, it is too late, too late ! I shall 
soon give an account for my sins and self-indul- 
gence, my debased life, wasted time and oppor- 
tunity will be my only reply. Oh, that I could 
only blot out and live again the last twenty-five 
years of my life — how different they would be 
spent! Alas, it is too late! Wasted time can 
never be recalled. Would to God I had died 'ere 
I tasted the poison that crazed my brain, de- 
stroyed my manhood, squandered my wealth, 
brought my beautiful wife and children to pov- 
erty, shame, disgrace and part of them to 
premature graves! Remorse is eating up my 
life, my soul! I shall soon go to my earthly 
reward. Yes, I shall receive my just deserts. 
No crown of glory awaits me as it did your 
mother. My doom is sealed. I shall enter 
eternal punishment.” 

“ Oh, father, you must not say that, it is not 
too late. God is a merciful God. He will save 
your soul. You cannot undo the past. That is 
gone beyond recall. But you can plead with 
God for mercy. Remember, he is a God of love 
and sympathy. He will forgive you, even as he 
did the thief on the cross. The blood of Jesus 
was shed for sinners and it will atone for you. 
Mother forgave you and Jesus loves you more 
than she.” 

“ Ah, child, you cannot understand ; it would 
be an insult to God to spend my entire life in 
sin as 1 have done, and then throw it at his feet 
and plead for mercy.” 

“ Father, Christ came not to call the righteous, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 387 

but sinners to repentance. All things are pos- 
sible with God. He loved you even while you 
sinned and did not love yourself. Even then he 
was pleading with your poor soul. Mother 
never ceased to pray for you and she believed 
her prayers would be answered. God will for- 
give if you seek him.” 

“ Ah, child, the Bible says no drunkard shall 
enter heaven.” 

“ Yes, father, but if you reform and accept 
Christ’s atonement you will no longer be a 
drunkard but a reclaimed soul. It is not too 
late, but reform quickly ’ere death overtakes you 
unawares — then your doom would be sealed.” 

“ Oh, daughter, what could I say — how could 
I approach the throne of grace with such a 
blotted record ? ” 

“You have but one prayer to offer, father; 
cry, ‘ God be merciful to me a sinner! ’ ” 

The poor old man bid his children good-night 
and slowly tottered to his chamber. In a few 
minutes they heard his voice and thought he was 
calling but when they approached the room they 
heard him supplicating God for mercy and for- 
giveness. From that day he seemed very humble 
and each night when he retired they would hear 
his prayer ascending to the throne of grace. One 
day, he complained of a severe pain and a phy- 
sician was summoned. The case was pronounced 
hopeless from the first. Consultations were held 
but all to no avail. During the first hours of his 
illness, while his mind was still lucid, Dolores 
said, “ Father, cast your care on Jesus. He 
alone can save you. Your case is beyond human 
aid.” 


388 THE SHADOW OF, A CURSE, 

" Yes, daughter, I know, and have been com- 
muning with God for many days.” 

“Do you feel your sins forgiven, father?” 

“ Yes, I think so. I believe I am pardoned — 
my only plea, a sinner saved by grace. What 
wonderful love that of Jesus to save such as I! 
His blood can make the foulest clean, even me! 
But what a life I have lived — oh, the remorse 
of it!” 

The suffering of E. Marshall Hegmeyher was 
beyond description — never was greater agony 
witnessed. It sometimes required several to con- 
fine him in the bed. The strain on the nerves 
of those watching was great and they were com- 
pelled to leave the room at frequent intervals. 
The family was almost distracted, and prayed 
that he might be relieved even by death. It 
seemed that he must atone in the last hour. Days 
and nights he lingered. Suddenly the pain 
seemed to leave the bady. He looked from one 
to the other of those surrounding his bed, while 
a gentle smile rested on his lips, as of early days, 
and he whispered: 

“ At last, God is merciful, even to such as I ! ” 
And the breath fluttered and E. Marshall Heg- 
meyher’s soul had departed to give an account to 
its creator. Short services were held in the 
home of his son, and the remains of the man who 
had wasted, life, time, talent, wealth and oppor- 
tunity were laid to rest by his martyred wife, 
whose life had been one of sacrifice and devotion. 
There they would await judgment when each 
must hear their record read and account for 
their earthly stewardship — She to hear it said, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 389 

“ Well done, good and faithful servant. Wel- 
come thou into the kingdom of heaven prepared 
for thee ! ” He to hear a blotted record, and a 
mournful voice repeat, “ A wasted life, only a 
sinner saved by grace.” 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

THE FEMALE DETECTIVE. 

Dolores Hegmeyher returned to her em- 
ployment in the South but she had not gained 
strength rapidly. In fact, the horror of the 
conditions surrounding her father's death had 
been a severe shock to this already wrecked 
nervous system and she was not strong enough 
for the work. Day after day she dragged her- 
self about, vainly trying to perform her duty. 
But the suffering girl was alone, discouraged and 
unhappy. Her friend, Miss Jewell, whom she 
loved so dearly seemed changed. She would 
call frequently but instead of sympathizing, as 
in the hospital, she had grown cold and indif- 
ferent, would frequently chastize her for weep- 
ing, criticise her for the lack of interest she 
showed in her business, and even be harsh with 
her when ill. This gave the girl great pain. 
Her hopes had been greatly built upon what they 
had planned to accomplish together and she 
now realized they had been founded on imagina- 
tion. Some one had interfered and was influenc- 


390 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

ing Miss Jewell against her. She knew who it 
was. But if her friendship was no deeper than 
that she would not attempt to explain or dissuade 
her. But one day she said, 

“ Dear little friend * Wee/ why have you thus 
changed? What have I done that you should 
treat me so? What has been told you? If you 
do not wish my friendship, say so. If I have 
done anything you disapprove I should like to 
know it. Under no circumstances would I will- 
fully cause you pain. I love you as an own 
sister, your kindness to me when in the hospital 
can never be forgotten. It matters not what 
you do or how you treat me I shall always love 
and trust you, knowing that deep in your heart, 
you, dear, are not to blame. It is the fault of an- 
other, and my dearest little friend I shall never 
doubt you.” 

Tears filled the eyes of the nurse as she 
replied, “ Miss Hegmeyher, please say that 
again, once more. Please repeat those words.” 

“ No matter what happens I shall never doubt 
your sincerity.” Dolores slowly repeated it as 
commanded. 

“ Ah, my beloved friend, that promise means 
more than you now can perceive. You will have 
every reason to doubt me in the future. But I 
beg you remember your promise. I have not 
changed; my heart is true and sincere. My 
coolness has all been assumed. You, dear, have 
done nothing to offend me, and I love you dearly, 
but we can never accomplish together the good 
work so conscientiously planned. Duty forbids. 
I cannot explain but you, dear, understand.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 


39i 


** I slept and dreamed that life was beauty, 

I awoke and found that life was duty.” 

“ Though I may be required to treat you as an 
enemy in the future it shall all be assumed. Re- 
member, I shall love and pray for you always, 
as my dearest friend.” 

“ No, Wee, I do not understand why you 
should allow any one to influence you thus, but 
I shall not doubt your sincerity, and sometime 
I shall hope to be able to administer to you and 
yours as you deserve, and show my appreciation 
of your kindness when I was ill. I am going 
away from here in a few weeks. If I remain I 
fear I shall go into decline. My strength is 
rapidly failing; I need fresh air and change of 
climate. The physicians say I must travel, but 
I cannot afford it. Cousin Robert Noble thinks 
he can secure a position for me which requires 
continuous travel. I believe a change of climate 
and environment would restore my health.” 

The girls parted that evening the best of 
friends, and the next day when Dolores called 
the Jewell residence by ’phone and inquired for 
her friend, the sister coldly replied, “ She is not 
here nor will she ever be again. She left the 
city this morning, and you shall never again 
know where she is.” 

“ Very well, Miss Jewell, if you do not wish to 
tell me, I shall never ask you. But I shall some- 
time know where she is and see her again. 
This has all been unkind, unjust, and you know 
it. I have never laid one straw in your pathway. 
Instead, I have treated you with the love and re- 


392 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

spect due a sister. Evil sometimes seems to ac- 
complish its object. But such achievements are 
not permanent. Right will at last prevail. I 
bear you no ill will. Good-bye.” 

The village papers announced the arrival of 
Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher from the South, 
the guest of her cousin, Robert Noble, and 
family. Was it the same attractive, vivacious, 
popular girl that had visited there a few years 
ago? Yes, it was she but no one recognized her. 
The pale, nervous, reserved, heart-broken girl, 
gowned in crape, was a striking contrast to 
the rosy-faced, strong-willed, joyous, laughing, 
whole-hearted, little Dolores of yore. Was it 
possible she could be the same? How could so 
great a change have taken place in so short a 
time? Pretty Nell Noble had not changed a 
particle. She did not look one day older. This 
blonde beauty had become more attractive each 
year. What could have wrought the havoc in 
Dolores? Surely, some great calamity had be- 
fallen her. Kennard Mannington called the 
evening after her arrival. Dolores greeted him 
kindly, but there was no visible display of pleas- 
ure on her part. It was evident to the casual 
observer that her heart and thoughts were far 
away. 

“ Why, Miss Hegmeyher, is it possible ! How 
you have changed ! ” 

She smiled faintly, as she replied, 

“ Yes, Mr. Mannington, I have grown quite 
decrepit — almost a feeble old lady. ‘ Time and 
tide changes ever/ and in my case it has altered 
things greatly. I have had varied experiences 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 393 

since we last met. I am only a faded flower, a 
past number.” 

“ No, Miss Hegmeyher, no, I did not mean 
that! ” and bowing over her he whispered, “ You 
have lost none of your attractions for me. 
Physical changes cannot deface the beauty of 
the character and the soul. With me you shall 
always remain the one important and ever pres- 
ent number.” 

Mr. Noble entered, buggy whip in hand, shook 
hands with young Mannington, exclaiming, 
“Hello, Kennard, old boy, how are you? You 
will have to excuse Dolores a little while, 
mother and Nell will entertain you while I take 
her for a drive. Something must be done to re- 
store the color to her cheeks and start healthy 
blood coursing through her veins again. We 
cannot afford to let her dwindle and die like 
this, when she is just beginning to bud into 
womanhood. Come, Dolores, get your hat ! ” 

The girl smiling said, “ I suppose I must go, 
there seems to be no alternative.” 

“ Not a bit of it, you must get well and strong. 
Why, child, you come of a stock that never 
looks old if they take care of themselves. Just 
think of your uncle Byron, Cameron, your 
mother, grandmother, my sister Mary and 
others. Why, our people never look old. And 
here is Nell, she is older than you, and has not 
changed a particle. We cannot stand for any- 
thing like this in our family. No you will soon 
be as pretty and attractive as ever.” 

“ Very well, cousin Robert, even that would 
be little to comment upon, for I was never a 


394 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

pretty girl and you know it. But if you can 
help to restore my health it will mean more to 
me than the beauty so much coveted by most 
women. I shall see you when I return, Mr. 
Mannington. Will you kindly excuse me ? ” 

“ Certainly, Miss Hegmeyher.” 

After they had started, Mr. Noble said, 
“ Well, Dolores, how would you like to be a 
detective ? ” 

“ A detective, cousin Robert ? What are you 
talking about? How could I be a detective? 
Who could I catch ? I have always heard ‘ It 
took a thief to catch a thief.’ You surely do not 
think I have changed enough to become a pick- 
pocket ? ” 

“ No, child, I do not. Nor does the company 
I refer to employ thieves. They would not em- 
ploy you if you were anything but a perfect 
lady. That old adage is no longer true. The 
best detective agencies do not employ unprin- 
cipled men and women. The statements of 
such people could not be depended upon. They 
need men and women with clear brains, sturdy 
will and irreproachable character. This com- 
pany needs just such a girl as you and will pay 
a fine salary and all expenses. You will be re- 
quired to travel all over the United States. The 
work is comparatively easy and you will have 
nothing to do that any lady could not perform 
with perfect propriety. You will visit strange 
cities, see strange faces, think of and discuss 
new and strange subjects, and I firmly believe 
will soon be a well woman. Will you accept 
the offer?” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 395 


“ But cousin Robert, I would have to interfere 
with other people’s affairs, act deceitful and prob- 
ably prevaricate. Could a conscientious lady 
do that?” 

“ No, Dolores, you will have to do nothing of 
the kind. Your work will be to correct the 
wrong and commend the right. You can execute 
your duty just as conscientiously as a detective, 
as you could if you were a teacher, nurse, phy- 
sician or lawyer. It is not the profession that 
makes the person, but the person makes the pro- 
fession, and all decent work for the improve- 
ment of humanity is honorable. I advise you 
to take it, and predict you will make a success. 
Add dignity to the profession and win the re- 
spect of the public. 

I shall consider the proposition, cousin. I be- 
lieve I might like it.” 

“ Cousin Robert, Nell is certainly one of the 
most beautiful girls I have ever seen.” 

“ Yes, Nell is pretty. Poor child, I suppose 
she will never marry.” 

“ Why not, she seems very happy.” 

“ Yes, looks are very deceiving. She is not 
happy, however, and I fear never will be again. 
Since early childhood she and Kennard Man- 
nington have been playmates. As they grew 
older their friendship ripened into love. Nell, 
with her true loyal nature, gave him her heart 
unreserved. He for years seemed to adore her 
was really foolish in his devotion — jealous if 
she even walked with another boy. She gave 
up everything for him. The wedding day was 
set, her trousseau made, when he chanced to 


396 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

meet some young lady whom he lost his head 
over — not his heart (for he is heartless). He 
then broke the engagement, and Nell has grieved 
for him ever since.” 

“ Why, cousin Robert, I am surprised ! I 
never suspected anything but friendship existed 
between Nell and Kennard, and would not have 
believed him that kind of a man. Why do you 
welcome him in your home if he has so basely 
wronged Nell?” 

“ Ah, that is it. I would much prefer giving 
him my foot than my hand. But we do it to 
please Nell. She does not permit us to speak 
one word against him — always takes his part, 
blaming herself for the whole affair; insists on 
allowing the contemptible wretch to call at the 
house and terms him her best friend. I cannot 
understand the influence he yields over her. 
She possesses an abundance of will power with 
every one else.” 

“ Do you know the other girl, cousin 
Robert? ” 

“ No, Nell does, but she will not tell us who 
it is, and bears her no ill will — says she loves the 
lady dearly and will not reveal her name. Do 
you know, Dolores, Nell’s disposition always re- 
minds me of your faithful mother’s. She is 
loyal to her friends to a fault, and often to her 
own detriment.” 

“Yes, cousin, I have noticed the similarity 
frequently, and for that reason Nell is my 
favorite cousin.” 

After they returned from the drive Kennard 
and the two girls sat on the veranda for some 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 397 

time discussing various subjects of interest. 
Finally Nell excused herself leaving the other 
two alone. Kennard immediately addressed 
Dolores, saying, “ Miss Hegmeyher, how much 
longer must I wait ? Are you not now willing to 
become my wife? ” 

“ No, Kennard Mannington, the answer I once 
gave you was final. My feelings for you have 
not changed, and you will do me the kindness to 
never approach me on the subject again. I do 
not love you and would not be your wife if you 
were the only man on earth. I admire a man of 
honor and principle. Until recently I did not 
know of your perfidy to cousin Nell, a girl 
whose name you are not worthy to mention, 
much less claim as your wife. Did you mean to 
beguile me into the meshes of your drag net also 
and after you had won my heart, possibly 
married me, see some one you admired more 
and considered it your duty to cast me aside as 
a withered blossom. Ah, I am already a droop- 
ing flower. But you will find I am not dead. 
Neither am I yours to be trampled under foot. 
Dear beautiful Nell was too loyal to tell me of 
her love and your treachery. She would have 
died rather than betray you. But right will out, 
and I learned the truth of the affair from an 
unexpected source. She does not even suspect 
now that I know the secret that is destroying her 
life. Poor girl, if she could only be made to 
understand the truth she is better off without 
you. Blind love hides your faults from her, but 
it does not from me and the world. I behold 
you as you really are — minus every principle 


398 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

that goes to make up a really worthy man. You 
won her heart in childhood, jealously guarding it 
from the approach of all other suitors, gave her 
no chance to admire or love another, placed the 
betrothal ring on her finger when she was but 
a mere girl, named the wedding day, saw the 
wedding gown and veil designed, and then 
crushed that noble heart by telling her you loved 
another, whom you had only known a few days, 
and must break the engagement. You could not 
wed a woman you did not love, and then you 
had the audacity to come into her own home and 
try to woo another, disregarding the pain you 
gave her so long as you could satisfy your own 
selfish desires. Kennard, I never could have 
loved you, but I did admire and respect you as a 
man of principle and stability of character. But 
since I have learned of your real weakness you 
have forfeited even my respect. You may con- 
sider our friendship at an end until you make 
restitution to Nell. If you should ever wed her, 
and treat her as a woman so far your superior 
deserves from the man who has basely wronged 
her then and then only shall I try to respect you. 
Good-night.” 

She arose and entered the house. 

Nell awaited her in the library. Dolores 
kissed her fondly saying, “ My dear little Blue 
Bell is more beautiful than ever. Has that mis- 
guided suitor of yours grown weary of his dazzl- 
ing butterfly and returned to his real sweet- 
heart ? ” 

“ No, dearest cousin, he cares for her only.” 

“Has she learned to care for him yet?” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 399 

“ No, I think not” 

“ Good, the prize is yours. He will grow 
weary of waiting for that spunky, little spit-fire, 
become disgusted with her indifference, find that 
he really has never cared for her after all, and 
return to you, his first and only love — , and try 
to make amends for these years of neglect.” 

“ Ah, fair prophetess, I hope your predictions 
will prove true. But even the most sagacious 
sometimes fail, and I fear you will in this case. 
How are you and Kennard progressing, Cousin 
Dolores ? ” 

“ Not at all ; I do not like him.” 

“ Do not like him ! why, cousin, how could 
you help it ! ” 

“ Oh, there is something about him that does 
not appeal to me, and in my present physical 
condition he grates on my nerves. If he were 
yours or someone else’s sweetheart I might like 
him for a cousin or friend but nothing more. 
He was no doubt disappointed in me, too. I 
have changed greatly. Men like Kennard 
Mannington admire beautiful girls like you, 
dear. I tell you Blue Bell, I am not out of the 
market.” 

She could not help but notice a look of satis- 
faction on the face of the beautiful girl, as she 
replied, “ no, Cousin Dolores, such as you will 
never be out of demand. You are loved by all 
who know you.” 

For six months Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher’s 
life was one of continuous change and excite- 
ment. To describe all of her thrilling ex- 
periences would fill a large volume. It is enough 


400 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


to say she was a registered detective and one of 
the most sagacious, intrepid ones of the force, 
entering into that as in everything she had ever 
sought to accomplish in life, with a will, a deter- 
mination to succeed. She was sent to every 
part of the continent, and disguised to suit all 
professions or stations of life. She served in 
the capacity of clerk, bookkeeper, ticket agent, 
telephone girl, book agent, sales lady, nurse, 
cook, waitress, maid, etc. Her favorite disguise 
was to carry a music roll and pass for a music 
teacher. She often laughingly remarked that the 
two most exasperating characters she had to 
impersonate were the typical type of brainless 
society lady of leisure, and the washerwoman. 
Of the two, she preferred the latter. Although 
she was not a success at this honorable calling 
and usually received her just discharge ’ere the 
day’s labor had fully begun. However, she 
always managed to secure the needed informa- 
tion before her dismissal, while in the case of 
the former she would sometimes be required to 
spend several days, possibly weeks, in a hotel, 
dressed in the approved conventional style, play- 
ing with her hands, chattering silly small talk, 
listening with apparent interest to the latest 
slang and gossip of the day, and horrifying her 
frivolous companions by refusing to drink wine 
with them or smoke cigarettes. Yes, to a think- 
ing, ambitious, industrious girl this wasted idle 
life was more disgusting and harassing than the 
most menial labor would have been, and she 
would inwardly repeat to herself: 

“ Ah the shame of it ! Wasted time and 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 401 

opportunity ! The good these women might do 
with their wealth and talent instead of destroy- 
ing their own lives and those with whom they 
are associated! Thank God, mother raised me 
different.” 

Dolores was successful also in a financial way, 
demanded good salary, received several rewards, 
and during the six months gained a nice little 
income which she carefully invested where a 
good interest would be received. With her 
health entirely recovered, she was her old jolly 
self again — gay, joyous, attractive, happy, witty 
and interesting. Had she forgotten her sor- 
rows? Ah, no! But she had accepted them as 
her portion in life. She still loved that sainted 
mother with all her heart and missed her love 
and counsel more each day she lived but the cold 
world had little sympathy for the weeping lonely 
orphan, and she had learned the bitter lesson 
well to endure trouble alone, and like her beauti- 
ful mother always show a smiling face. One 
day while waiting for a car in a large western 
city she heard a delivery boy say, “ Take that up 
to the other Jewell’s, it don’t belong over there.” 

She wondered if it were possible that she had 
been so directed as to be near her friend again. 
Had she not inquired in all large hospitals 
throughout her entire travel, receiving no clue? 
It was not at all probable that this was she. No 
doubt a city the size of this contained many 
people of that name. Thus she stood soliloquiz- 
ing when the boy approached her saying, “ Lady, 
you dropped a package.” Dolores picked it up 
and replied, " Thank you my boy. Can you tell 


402 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

me where people by the name of Jewell live on 
this street ? ” 

“ Yes’m, two families by the name of Jewells 
live on this street, both widow ladies. They are 
not the ones I am seeking, I wish to locate a 
trained nurse recently from the east.” 

“ Oh, is that who you want ? She lives over 
there in that big, three-story, white house, with 
her aunt and sister. I know them, they come 
here to live with the old lady after their uncle 
died. The nurse is a little lady with black hair 
and eyes. She is awful sick now. Guess she has 
pneumonia. I don’t think they will let anybody 
see her. They live in that second flat No. 458.” 

“ Have they a telephone ? ” 

“ Yes, I think so. The old lady’s name is 
Susan. She has lots of money. Guess her 
nieces will get it all some day if they live.” 

“ Does the nurse still follow her profession 
when she is well ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, she worked all the time until she 
got sick. The old lady is mighty close — just 
works like she hadn’t a cent, and they say the 
girls are the same way. Are you going over, 
lady, to see them ? ” 

“ No I believe not.” 

She turned and walked down the street to a 
florist’s and ordered flowers for Miss Weda 
Jewell, trained nurse, No. 458, C. Street. Then 
entering a booth she soon found the ’phone num- 
ber 4056. The sister answered, and Dolores 
recognized her voice. 

“ Hello, is this Jewell’s residence?” 

“ Yes, who is speaking.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 403 

“ A former patient of Miss Jewell. How is 
she to-day ? ” 

“No better, she does not seem to gain 
strength rapidly.” 

“ I am so sorry — hope she will soon be strong 
again.” 

Dolores was much grieved and longed to see 
her friend again, but contented herself by fre- 
quently sending flowers, inquiring occasionally 
by ’phone, and continuously praying for her re- 
covery. The sister did not recognize her voice 
and gave full information concerning the sick 
girl’s condition. 


CHAPTER XLV. 

THE TRAINED NURSE. 

While seeking certain information for the 
agency employing her, Dolores was required to 
enter a hospital and take training as a nurse. 
She liked the work very much, was quite popular 
throughout the institution, and after securing the 
desired information, decided to remain and com- 
plete the course. Thus she severed her connec- 
tion with the detective force and entered heart 
and hand into her new profession. 

One day she called to inquire of Miss Jewell’s 
health when her friend answered the ’phone her- 
self. 

“ Hello, who is this speaking? ” 


404 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

Dolores recognized the voice but did not at 
first make herself known and replied, 

“ A nurse friend of Miss Jewell's. How is she 
to-day ? ” 

“ This is Miss Jewell, the nurse, speaking. I 
am not gaining strength as I should like. My 
lungs remain weak and we fear decline. The 
physician advises a change of climate and higher 
altitude and I expect to start South in a few 
days. Sometimes I fear I shall never be strong 
again.” 

“ Oh, you must not be discouraged ; a change 
may restore you rapidly. Perhaps the climate 
here does not agree with you.” 

“ Yes, I think that is possibly true. I have 
not become thoroughly acclimated yet.” 

“ I hope you will soon be quite strong again. 
I shall pray for your recovery. Wee Jewell, do 
you not know who this is speaking ? ” 

“ Yes, Miss Hegmeyher, I knew your voice 
when you first spoke,” and the girrs voice 
trembled, as she said, “ But, oh, please, do not 
call me again for I dare not communicate with 
you.” 

“ Very well, my dear Miss Jewell, as you 
wish. But I shall not forget the last promise 
I made you. I shall never doubt your sincerety 
even though you treat me as an enemy. You 
shall ever have my love, prayers, and best 
wishes. Sometime I shall understand. Good- 
bye.” 

Dolores hung up the receiver but she did not 
leave the booth. Tears she could not restrain 
sparkled on her lashes as she sat there reflecting. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 405 

What did this all mean ? It had been her portion 
of life to be deceived, betrayed, forsaken by 
those she loved and trusted, those she had set her 
heart upon; every man, woman and child dear 
to her heart had either forsaken or been 
separated from her. Not even the counsel of a 
dear girl chum was permitted her. Was this a 
part of the shadow still eclipsing her life ? Must 
she suffer forever for the sins of others? No, 
she would rise in rebellion — not against God and 
justice but against sin and injustice. It was not 
right that she should be scorned and ridiculed 
for the faults of others, nor would she submit 
to it. She would, by God’s help, dispell the 
shadow and rise to an eminence so far above 
those who had unjustly condemned her that they 
would be filled with remorse and envy. She 
would then heap coals of fire on their heads by 
extending to them sincere friendship, forgiving 
the bitter pangs and heart throbs inflicted by 
their stinging words and rebukes when she was 
helpless to defend herself. Thus she sat solilo- 
quizing, when she heard the post-man announce 
mail, and, as she stepped from the booth, the 
hospital clerk exclaimed, “ Here is a letter for 
you, Miss Hegmeyher.” It was from Nell Noble 
and Dolores smiled as she read the following 
note, 

“ My dearest cousin : — I am the happiest girl 
in the universe to-day and hasten to write the 
good news, knowing no one will be more rejoiced 
than your dear self to learn that I am to be mar- 
ried very soon to Kennard Mannington, who has 
as you predicted at last come back bringing to 


406 the shadow, of; a curse, 


me his whole heart. He assures me and I know 
he speaks the truth that he has never really 
loved another. His infatuation for the other girl 
whose name he will not mention was transient 
and has long ago passed into oblivian. Dear, the 
reason I did not speak his name before was be- 
cause I was silly enough to imagine you were the 
attraction, and did not wish to make either of 
you unhappy. Just think of it, how absurd! 
Kennard laughs heartily at my presumption — 
says you and he have always been good friends, 
and as such he likes you very much, and will be 
delighted to have you for a cousin, but assures 
me that neither of you have ever thought of love, 
much less marriage. So you see, dear cousin, 
how foolish we girls can be, borrowing trouble 
and imagining silly things that have really never 
existed. Oh, well, it is all over now and he will 
soon be mine. We are both extremely happy. 
Can you arrange to come East for the wedding? 
Do, cousin, if possible. Answer by return mail. 
Much love, 

Your happy little Blue Bell Cousin, 
Nell Noble.” 

P. S. — Kennard wishes to be remembered. 

Dolores laughed outright. “ Poor blind, mis- 
guided girl! I hope she may never know of his 
deception and untruthfulness. One thing sure, I 
shall never be her informer, but she is wise to 
take him quickly ’ere he sees another who 
chances to appeal to his fancy. Oh, well, such is 
life I suppose. I hope he will behave himself 
after they are married, treat her as she deserves, 
and make her happy.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 407 

During her second years’ course Dolores was 
required to accompany a patient to a private 
sanitorium in the country where they remained 
two months. She liked the nurses in that in- 
stitution very much. In fact she and the head 
nurse became quite intimate. One day when they 
saw the hospital carriage driving up the head 
nurse exclaimed “ Oh, they are bringing a new 
patient. Miss Hegmeyher, will you receive them 
while I look after her room?” Dolores ^rose 
and approached the hack which contained one 
man, and three women, the physician, a nurse, 
the patient and a friend. She took no notice of 
the occupants other than the patient until they 
had removed her from the carriage, then looking 
up she beheld standing by her side her former 
friend, Miss Jewell, whose face was ashen. 
Their eyes met, their lips quivered. Their hands 
dropped to their sides as if paralysed. Tears 
glistened on their lashes. Each looked at the 
other as though they would impress that last 
fond look on the memory forever. A deep sigh 
heaved each bosom but neither of them spoke. 
The head nurse appeared and Dolores slowly 
walked away. As she passed Miss Jewell she 
let one little white hand gently press the one that 
had so faithfully administered to her in the hour 
of need — the hand that had soothed her aching 
brow, instead of her mother’s. Ah, yes, she loved 
this girl as an own sister. She had saved her 
life, and though she treated her as an enemy, 
passed her by as a stranger she would keep her 
promise and never doubt her friendship and 
sincerity. 


4 o8 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

“ Friendship may weave a garland. 

Gold may link a chain, 

But love alone can form a clasp 
Unbroken to remain.” 

Dolores advanced rapidly in her work and bid 
fair to make the most successful nurse in the 
institution. One day she received a letter from 
an eastern friend stating that Nelse Criss had 
failed financially and made an assignment. The 
old homestead would be sold at public auction, 
and if she wanted it, he would bid it in for her. 
It would go very cheap. She sat down and im- 
mediately wrote him to not let the chance pass, to 
purchase it without fail, and she would forward 
a check for the full amount. After receiving 
the letter she sat quietly meditating. At last the 
old home would again be hers. She would soon 
displace the saloonkeeper. True, it would take 
most all of her little bank account. But she 
would work hard and get more. Ah, thank God, 
the shadow was beginning to fade. The super- 
intendent of nurses entered disturbing the girl's 
pleasant revery, 

“ Miss Hegmeyher, a lady who has just re- 
turned from Europe is in the office. Her child 
has typhoid fever at the hotel, and she expects to 
have him removed here at once, but wishes to 
select a private nurse first. I think you will pos- 
sibly suit best. Please come down and meet 
her.” 

Dolores descended to the office, where a beau- 
tiful lady magnificently gowned awaited them. 
The superintendent approached saying, “ We 
consider this our best nurse. Miss Hegmeyher, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 409 

Mrs. Norfleet ! ” The lady arose and advanced 
to meet her when their eyes met and she ex- 
claimed, 

“ Oh, my dear little Dolores ! My own little 
sister,” and clasping the uniformed figure in her 
arms, she kissed her again and again. “ Found 
at last, thank God ! In vain, I have searched for 
you, my dearest friend, again and again. My 
husband was in West Virginia three years at one 
time, but failed to locate you, and you, dear, are 
now a nurse in this beautiful California. Oh, I 
am so glad. You will save my boy, won’t you, 
my dearest friend?” The color had faded from 
the face of Dolores and her voice trembled as 
she replied, 

“ I am equally glad to see you, Louise, and 
shall do all in my power to restore your boy’s 
health. Where is the child and his father?” 

“ The children arc at the Hotel De Mount. I 
have two — a boy, Horace, named for his father, 
and a girl, little Dolores Emerald. I wrote you 
about them, but the letter was lost, I suppose. 
My husband is in Europe and will not be here 
for a few weeks. He could not arrange to come 
as we had planned, so the children and I sailed 
as previously arranged, leaving him to follow 
later. Oh, I wish he were here now that Horace 
Jr., is ill. But it will be such a comfort to have 
you with me ! ” 

The little fellow was removed to the hospital 
where Dolores took vigilant care of him. Some- 
times a tear would drop on the pillow as she 
thought, “ Oh how like his handsome father ! 
The same eyes, hair, smile, self-will and ardent 


4 io THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


devotion! The child grew very fond of her, 
would throw his little arms about her neck, and 
almost smother her with kisses exclaiming, “ Oh, 
nursie, I love you just like I do dear mother.” 

“ No, no, my little sweetheart, you may love 
me dearly but love no one as mother. She must 
always have first place in your heart.” 

He had a very light attack. The fever ran its 
course quickly, and the child was soon convales- 
cent. Dolores would read, sing and play games 
with him, while he in return entertained her by 
describing the wonderful achievements of his 
father. 

“ Oh, nursie, you just ought to know him, he 
is so handsome and clever. He was not very 
good to us when we were little. Once he went 
away and stayed a long, long time — three years, I 
think, mother said it was. Mother would cry and 
pray and taught sister and I to pray for him 
every night. She was awfully sad and could 
hardly smile, and I was sad, too. We were living 
in a big hotel in Paris then and mother told me 
about you once. She said if anything happened 
her you would love and care for sister and I just 
like she did, and we must love you dearly. I 
cried because I did not know you then. But I do 
love you now and you would take care of us if 
mother should die, wouldn’t you ? ” 

“ Let us not talk about that, dear. We hope 
God will spare your mother until you and Do- 
lores are grown, and now that your father has 
returned you do not need me.” 

“ Yes, we shall need you always. But as I was 
going to tell you he came back to us one day when 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 41 1 


we had almost given him up as gone for good. 
Oh, you never saw such a time. Mother fainted, 
he cried, and Dolores and I cried too because we 
were frightened and the maids all peeped through 
the cracks at us. When mother rallied, father 
held her in his arms, and asked her if she would 
ever forgive him, and promised he would never, 
no, never leave us again. Oh, he looked awful 
bad just like he had been sick a long, long time 
and now he is very kind to us. But he looks sad 
sometimes, and says he can never forget the pain 
he has caused in this world. I guess he means 
the way he grieved mother when he went away. 
I wish he would come to America right away so 
you could meet him. Oh, I know you would just 
love him ! ” 

Dolores bit her lips and hastily changed the 
subject. A few days later she sat reading to her 
little charge, when the door opened and Louise 
entered followed by Horace Norfleet. Dolores 
gave a deep sigh and the color left her cheeks 
but otherwise she showed no sign of embarrass- 
ment. “ Oh, father, father,” the child exclaimed. 
But the man's eyes were riveted on the little 
woman, clad in the pure white garb of a nurse, 
while the little cap, her badge of honor, rested 
’mid the dark locks as she sat caressing the hand 
of his son. He was deathly pale, and his hand 
shook as he clasped a chair for support. Louise 
clung to his arm lovingly, as she whispered, 

“ Come, Horace, come. Don’t let the child 
know you are frightened about him. I never 
knew you to get so excited before. He does look 
awful bad but is now out of danger, and will 


412 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


soon be all right again. Miss Hegmeyher, I 
want you to meet my husband, Mr. Norfleet. 
Horace, this is my dearest college friend of 
whom you have heard me so often speak, the 
lady I named our daughter for.” 

Dolores arose, smiled, and extending her hand, 
said, 

“ Mr. Norfleet, I am certainly very glad to meet 
you. Both Louise and little Horace have spoken 
of you so frequently that I almost imagine I know 
you. I am not surprised that you are a little 
nervous. No doubt the shock was very great to 
find your only son ill. However, it has been a 
very light case and he will be quite well soon. 
Just take this chair here by his bedside. Louise, 
if you will excuse me, I will walk out in the 
fresh air while you and your husband are here to 
look after our boy,” and, bowing, she left the 
room. 

She did not seek the fresh air, but the secrecy 
of her own chamber, where she dropped upon 
her knees, crying out, “ Oh, Father in heaven, 
help me to be strong, and help him to be a man. 
Destroy the love in our hearts for each other! 
Grant that only pure friendship may remain 
therein. I have no right to love him. He won 
my heart and I believed him a free man. But 
that love must die and be forever buried. Give 
me strength to overcome all weaknesses, and 
grant that dear Louise may never know that I, 
her dearest friend, the girl she loves, was once 
her rival and came near robbing her of her 
husband.” She thus calmly communed with God 
for several minutes, then quietly arose singing: 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 413 

** Peace, peace, sweet peace, 

Oh wonderful gift from above, 

Oh wonderful, wonderful peace, 

Sweet peace, the gift of God’s love.’' 

When she returned to her patient, his father 
had regained his equilibrium and was talking 
pleasantly to his wife and son. Dolores entered 
into the spirit of the conversation with much 
enthusiasm, inquiring of his voyage etc., and no 
casual observer could have possibly suspected that 
a hidden romance and sacred secret was burning 
the inner recesses of their burdened hearts. 

Dolores graduated with the highest honors and 
registered with one of the nurse agencies. She 
noticed the name of her friend, Miss Jewell, on 
the register but made no inquiry while there, but 
after returning to her room ’phoned to the agency 
asking if they had a nurse by the name of Miss 
Jewell. “ Yes, but she is on a case. Did you 
want a nurse? If so, we can supply you.” 

“ No, I thank you, I am a friend of Miss 
Jewell’s and do not care for any one else. She 
is a girl I can conscientiously recommend as the 
best nurse I have ever known. I will call again. 
Good-bye.” Frequently when called on a case 
she would reply, “ I am engaged and cannot go 
but you will find one of the best nurses in the city 
at No. 458 C. Street. You may possibly be able 
to secure her.” Then, smiling, she would say to 
herself as she left the ’phone, “ Dear little Wee 
does not know how I long to be kind and treat 
her as a sister, but I shall never doubt her 
sincerity.” 

A letter arrived from the east stating that the 


414 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


oil well drilled on the old home place had come in 
a gusher. They were preparing to drill several 
more, and she was indeed a wealthy woman. 
Ah, at last it had come. If mother could have 
only been spared to enjoy it with her. But, no, 
she would not be selfish and wish her back in this 
world of sin and trouble. That dear parent was 
happier in heaven than she could have possibly 
made her on earth. But, thank God, she could 
at last clear the family name of insolvency, beau- 
tify the old home and help suffering humanity. 

One day while walking down Vanness Avenue, 
San Francisco, Dolores saw a handsome gentle- 
man immaculately groomed approaching her 
smiling. Extending his hand he said, 

“Why, Miss Hegmeyher,(is that still the 
name ?) I am so glad to see you ! How long have 
you been in California? ” 

“ Bentley, or Mr. Burns, I should have said, I 
did not recognize you at first sight! I have not 
seen or heard of you for years. Yes, my name 
is still the same — Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher. 
Let me assure you, the pleasure in meeting you 
is mutual. I have been in this state three years. 
Have you been here long? ” 

“ Two years. Strange I have never seen you 
before. Let me see, how long has it been since 
we last met? Not since that day at college when 
the girls all left you, because you stopped to 
shake hands with the janitor, but you were game, 
all right. You never slighted any one. Ah, if 
we had more mothers like yours what a difference 
we would notice in the rising generation! How 
is that beautiful mother? ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 415 

“ Ah, Bentley, she is free from the trials of 
earth, resting eternally with the redeemed.” 

“ What, not dead? ” 

Yes, she left me more than four years ago, 
and father followed a few months later.” 

“ Ah, I did not know— I had not heard. Do- 
lores — may I still call you that ? ” 

“ Certainly, Mr. Burns.” 

“ Please, call me Bennie as of old. Believe me, 
Dolores, your mother, Virginia and yourself have 
always been my ideal of a perfect womanhood — 
my standard of what the Creator expected — the 
typical mother to be like.” 

“ Yes, I believe mother and Virginia were, but 
I am more impulsive and self-willed. I am 
different.” 

“ In disposition you are different, Dolores, but 
in principle you are the same.” 

“ I hope so, I long to be like mother.” 

“ What are you doing, Dolores ? ” 

“ Nursing. I just graduated from one of the 
hospitals here a few weeks ago. What profes- 
sion are you following? ” 

“ I am an attorney and have met with great 
success. I was determined to rise from my en- 
vironments and, by God’s help, have succeeded. 
No law firm in the city has a better practice than 
Burns and Culbertson. I have already practiced 
successfully in the United States Supreme Court 
at Washington D. C., and, by God’s help, shall 
climb to the top of the ladder. Ah, Dolores, 
those who slighted and ridiculed me when I could 
not defend myself have many of them fallen. 

4 The last shall be first and the first shall be last.* 

4 They that laugh last, laugh best.’ ” 


4 i6 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


44 Yes, Bennie, — I, too, have been engulfed un- 
der the same shadow as you, — and, by God’s help, 
have expelled much of the gloom. Mine adver- 
saries are also many of them fallen, but I feel 
sorry for them. We must not laugh at their 
calamity.” 

44 Ah, Dolores, I am not good and forgiving 
like you. I wish I were. Dolores, won’t you 
lunch with me to-day at the hotel ? ” 

44 No, I thank you, Bentley, I have an engage- 
ment at the noon hour.” 

44 How about dinner this evening? ” 

44 Very well, I shall be pleased to accept.” 

The two spent much time in each other’s 
company. Their interests were mutual — love of 
home, native state, sorrows, pleasures and am- 
bitions were alike discussed, and they were 
simultaneously drawn together by the strong 
bonds of friendship, confiding their plans and 
secrets to each other. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

IN A COUNTY HOSPITAL. 

In one of the rural counties of California some 
distance from San Francisco, the state metrop- 
olis, Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher was called to 
act in the capacity of head nurse in the city and 
county hospital. In fact, it developed that she 
was required to perform the services at both 
head and foot of the institution, for little or no 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 417 

help was supplied her. She did not object to the 
work but her heart ached as she witnessed, day 
after day, the distress of the poor unfortunates 
confined therein. The superintendent, Thomas 
Jergon, was a corpulent fellow, who tipped the 
scales at two hundred and thirty-six, and had a 
rich red complexion, such as usually accompanies 
excessive indulgence in strong drink and a voice 
that pealed forth at frequent intervals, sounding 
like a peal of thunder as it echoed and resounded 
from room to room throughout the institution. 
He was indeed quite conspicuous for his size, 
voice, complexion, diamond ring, diamond shirt 
studs, gaudy attire and odorous breath. In fact 
the type of man who has suddenly risen from 
the honorable and much more suitable position of 
section boss on a railroad to a position of em- 
inence, such as superintendent of the county 
court-house. His wife, a woman of disagreeable 
disposition, minus culture and refinement, sharing 
to the fullest extent the egotistical superiority of 
her husband acted as matron. Their children had 
been reared with neither education, manners nor 
religion. Their companions were usually saloon- 
keepers and their families. Their sports such as 
desecrate the Sabbath. They were very fond of 
Dolores and treated her with all the respect they 
were capable of showing, frequently taking her 
driving, inviting her to picnics, theaters, ball- 
games, etc. She had the distinguished honor of 
dining at the superintendent’s table, which 
groaned three times a day with its burden of the 
fat of the land. Everything that gold could pur- 
chase in the eatable line was served to this su- 


4 i8 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


perior official and his family, the head nurse in- 
cluded. But at the patients' table the menu was 
of decidedly different quality and variety. The 
morning repast seldom varied, consisting of an 
inferior grade of weak coffee, scorched oats 
sweetened with molasses, skimmed milk for 
cream, and bread. For dinner, their heavy 
meal, they had a conglomeration called hash, 
composed of potatoes, turnips, onions, carrots, 
and meat frequently spoiled, bread and fright- 
ened water called tea. This meal was subjected 
to slight variation, possibly twice a week, by 
boiling the meat minus the vegetables or serv- 
ing potatoes with the jackets on. But weeks 
would frequently lapse 'ere this sumptuous 
change occurred, with the exception of Friday, 
when cod fish stew was always served. Supper, 
the evening or light meal, was frequently exceed- 
ingly light in quantity but in quality quite heavy, 
as it always consisted, whether it be much or 
little, of what chanced to be left over at noon. 

The patients were kept in a filthy, unsanitary 
condition, with the linen room locked, and the 
three keys kept, one by the superintendent, one by 
his wife, or matron in name only, and the other by 
their son, the steward. All of Dolores’ pleading 
and importunings failed to secure for her the 
honor of carrying one of these coveted keys, 
thus rendering it absolutely impossible for her 
to secure clean clothing for the poor helpless 
creatures. At times they would wear garments 
for four or five weeks without a bath or change 
and it was not infrequent that one was found 
infested with vermine. She would appeal un- 


QR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 419 

successfully to the steward, whose duty it was 
to bathe and keep clean the masculine patients. 
He was quite free with promises but never ful- 
filled them. Jf she then approached the matron 
on the subject, the reply would be, “ What do 
you think of me? Do you suppose I will permit 
my boy to touch those filthy old vagabonds ? ” 

“ No, Mrs. Jergon, I am not surprised that you 
do not care to have him handle them in their 
present condition. However, if they had re- 
ceived proper attention regularly, as they should 
have, this condition need not have existed. I 
have importuned Bob, day after day, for weeks, 
to attend to them, all to no avail. I have asked 
both you and him for clothing that I might do it 
myself. You refused and if you do not have the 
work done or permit me to do it, I shall be com- 
pelled to speak to Mr. Jergon about them when 
he returns home from the city. 

“ Yes, I suppose that will be the next thing. 
I thought you were different, but I see you are 
going to be just like all the rest of the nurses — 
run to my husband with everything that happens 
here.” 

“ In that respect, Mrs. Jergon, I shall possibly 
be compelled to do as my predecessors. Mr. 
Jergon stands responsible to the county for the 
condition of these people. I first appealed to the 
steward, then to you. Both have failed me. 
Thus I am required to speak to the head of the 
institution. I am responsible to God for these 
poor sufferers and must do my duty.” 

“ All right, I don’t care, — Bob shan’t handle 
them. My boy won’t come down, to cleaning ver- 


420 THE SHADOW OF. A CURSE, 


mine. They are nothing but old paupers, any- 
how. 

Even so, Mrs. Jergon, they are human. I do 
not wish Robert to come down to anything. I 
only wish him to perform the duty for which he 
is paid. If he is superior to his position, why re- 
tain it, and receive the salary? Why not give it 
to some one who will be willing to do the work 
required at their hand. I like Robert, but I dare 
not let personal likes and dislikes dissuade me 
from the path of duty.” When Mr. Jergon re- 
turned that night, his wife had improvised a 
story about Miss Hegmeyher and he entered the 
drug-room enraged. “ Miss Hegmeyher, I want 
to know what is the matter here ! ” 

Dolores arose, calmly offering him a chair. 
Her voice was clear and distinct as she replied, 

“ Mr. Jergon I am a lady, and as such demand 
respectful language when addressed. You can 
not rage and profane God’s name when speaking 
to me as you do with your family and those poor 
unfortunates. If you choose to alter your tone 
I shall gladly tell you my grievances; if not, I 
shall leave the room.” 

“ Well, HI be blamed, if you are not the stran- 
gest girl I ever saw ! The other nurses were all 
afraid of me.” 

“Were they? I am not. I fear no one but 
God, and to him alone give an account.” 

“Very well, then, I will cool down; what is 
the matter ? ” 

“ First, I wish to precede my statement with 
my resignation. You will kindly secure another 
nurse to take my place as soon as possible.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 421 

“Resignation! What for? We don’t want 
any other nurse but you. Your work has been 
perfectly satisfactory, — you are the best nurse 
we have ever had. Haven’t we been kind to 
you ? ” 

“ Yes, Mr. Jergon, you have all been very kind 
and I appreciate it. I could not ask greater re- 
spect than has been shown me by each member of 
your family.” 

“Then what kick have you coming? We do 
everything we can to give you a good time. My 
wife always takes you out with her when you will 
go. You eat at our table, where everything is 
served that the market affords. Your room is 
one of the best in the house. And I have never 
spoken a cross word to you. The first thing my 
wife told me when I got home was the nurse is 
kicking on her job. Now, what is the kick?” 

“ No, Mr. Jergon, I am not objecting to my po- 
sition, nor do I dislike it. I get all I want to eat, 
and more than is really good for me. I should be 
satisfied with an inferior room. Your wife has 
frequently insisted on taking me out with her 
when I was compelled to refuse because I 
felt it my duty to remain in the hospital to re- 
lieve some poor sufferer. I am not here pleasure- 
seeking but to serve suffering humanity. Both 
you and I are responsible to God for the condi- 
tion of these poor creatures, and I for one do not 
wish to shift my responsibility. Many of them are 
really very ill. Medicine alone cannot cure them, 
with proper food and care they would recover. 
Several of them have families depending upon 
their labor for support. They are not vagabonds 


422 THE SHADOW OF! A CURSE, 


or indigents, but victims of misfortune, willing to 
work and maintain their families if restored to 
health. Others are old and helpless, entirely de- 
pendent upon those in charge of this institution. 
We are employed by the county and city to serve 
them. If they die from neglect and we make no 
effort to right this injustice and alleviate their 
suffering, we are responsible for their death and 
guilty of murder.” 

“ Oh, well, Miss Hegmeyher, the world will be 
better off without them. They are most all old 
whiskey bloats. Several of them have spent two 
or three fortunes for liquor already and will now 
die in the poorhouse. You must not take things 
to heart so. These old fellows are not worth fret- 
ting over. You never nursed in a city and county 
hospital before, and know nothing about such old 
sots. If you stay here long you will soon get 
hard-hearted like the rest of us.” 

“ No, Mr. Jergon, if I should remain here a 
lifetime I should always sympathize with suffer- 
ing humanity.” 

“ Well, you must not leave us, anyhow. I 
won’t accept your resignation. What is the mat- 
ter and how are they mistreated ? ” 

“ First, no one could live and thrive on the food 
served to these people. It is neither appetizing 
nor wholesome — in fact, often nauseating. The 
meat usually tainted, and always prepared in 
such a manner that no one could swallow it if 
they were not on the verge of starvation. Infec- 
tious fly papers remain on the table for weeks, 
and I am not permitted to remove them — have 
been politely informed by both the cook and 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 423 


matron that the dining-room does not concern 
me. The same stew has been repeatedly served 
to typhoid and other patients that should have 
light diet, and when I remonstrate, I am told they 
can eat that or do without. Some of the poor old 
creatures have had no baths since I arrived here. 
Others have worn their clothing several weeks. 
I have no key to the linen closet, and have been 
repeatedly informed that I had no business with 
one — that bathing and cleaning the patients does 
not come under my domain. I am only supposed 
to attend to the sick, issue out medicine, etc. 
Many of the poor creatures are infested with live 
vermine. Bob will do nothing to relieve them. 
His mother has strictly forbidden him to touch 
them. I cannot and will not remain here and see 
such distress without making an effort to relieve 
it. God will call me to account for my share of 
the crime. For this reason, I resign my position. 
But, Mr. Jergon, my resignation does not free 
me of the responsibility I owe to humanity. If 
so, I would gladly wash my hands of the whole 
affair by bidding you all a friendly good-by and 
boarding the first train eastward. But noble 
deeds are never accomplished by deserting the 
army when brought face to face with the foe. I 
shall stand for right though I die at the post of 
duty. And if you do not have these unfortunates 
cleaned, put in a sanitary condition and properly 
fed, I shall appear before the board of supervis- 
ors when they meet next week and report the 
condition of affairs in this hospital/’ 

“ Miss Hegmeyher, I have never injured you 
in any way, and you surely would not try to make 
me lose my position, would you ? ” 


424 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“ No, Mr. Jergon, I should feel very bad to 
cause you trouble, and if you had mistreated me 
personally I should have said nothing about it — 
would not have even resented it — for I am not 
compelled to remain here. But these poor souls 
are. They are helpless, completely at your 
mercy, and if you choose to starve and abuse 
them they must submit. They cannot defend 
themselves, for they are too old to work. They 
have no money and no place to go. I do not 
wish to report you and if you will see that they 
are properly cared for, I shall gladly drop the 
matter, for I assure you it would be very em- 
barrassing for me to be brought thus before the 
public. I have wept, hour after hour, when alone 
at night and prayed God to direct my steps and 
strengthen me for this trying ordeal, which I felt 
must necessarily come. Mr. Jergon, it pains me 
more than you know to have to take this action, 
and I hope I shall not be required to carry it 
further, but if it were my own brother conduct- 
ing a hospital in such a manner, I should first 
remonstrate with him as I have with you, and if 
he then persisted in neglecting his duty I should 
be compelled to expose him. I do not wish you 
to lose your position. My only desire is to see 
these poor creatures a little more comfortable. 

“ All right, Miss Hegmeyher, you stay where 
you are and I will see to it.” 

“ No, Mr. Jergon, I shall not remain here per- 
manently. I expect to return East soon where 
business calls me. But if you wish, I shall remain 
one month longer, and if things are in proper con- 
dition at that time I shall say no more about it.” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 425 


“ Oh, you won’t have to go then. I will see 
that everything is straightened up and then you 
will change your mind and stay with us. But I 
would not lose my job if you did tell the super- 
visors. They are afraid to fire me. Why, if it 
hadn’t been for me and a few other fellows, they 
would have never had their jobs and they have to 
stand by us for we elected them. You see, Miss 
Hegmeyher, you don’t understand politics.” 

“ No, but I do understand honor and princi- 
pal.” 

“ Well, I am a stand-patter for saloons, and so 
are all the supervisors. The temperance folks are 
trying to vote the town dry but they will never 
make it. That is why I have been away so much, 
lately. The battle is on, right now, and we whis- 
key folks are working hard. We have a man 
hired and are paying him a hundred dollars per 
night and expenses to lecture in the opera house. 
Then we have a brass band to play on the streets 
to draw the crowds to hear him. Oh, say, he is a 
brick! He can tell more funny lies about them 
temperance folks! Just keeps a fellow laughing 
all the time and makes them think the town would 
go under sure if they did not have saloons. I tell 
you a saloon is a fine business, and one can make 
lots of money in it, if they have a stand-in with 
the officials of the town but if them temperance 
folks gets in, the devil will be to pay, for they 
will clean the last saloon out.” 

“ Ah, Mr. Jergon, you spoke correctly when 
you said one can make lots of money. Yes, one 
can and that one is the saloonkeeper, while thou- 
sands are made paupers. Those who suffer from 


426 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

its effects are the poor wretches enticed therein, 
together with their poor, helpless wives and chil- 
dren, drooping and dying under the shadow of a 
curse.” 

“ Why, Miss Hegmeyher, the liquor tax paves 
our streets, keeps up our public institutions like 
this, etc. That lecturer said so last night.” 

“ Did he also say were it not for whiskey few 
such places would be needed? Did he say that 
nine-tenths of the occupants of the alms’ houses, 
insane asylums, orphanges, etc., were products 
of the saloon? Did he tell you the money re- 
quired to maintain the saloon victims would not 
only pave your streets but furnish comfortable 
tenement houses, gymnasiums, libraries, school 
buildings, colleges, art museums, musical conserv- 
atories, parks, etc. — places where our rising gen- 
eration could receive proper culture and educa- 
tion and our laboring people find respectable rec- 
reation. Ah, Mr. Jergon, be consistent! Do you 
remember the first question you asked me when 
seeking a nurse for this position, was, * Do you 
drink liquor?’ I was insulted that you should 
even suggest such a thing. But you informed 
me that several of my predecessors who were 
capable nurses in every respect had made a com- 
plete failure of the work here because they 
* rushed the bottle,’ as you chose to term it.” 

“ Yes, that is true.” 

“ Have you not had all kinds of trouble with 
the cooks because they drank ? ” 

“ Y ? s ” 

“ Did you not discharge the farm boss because 
he drank ? ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 427 

“ Yes.” 

“ Did you not tell me Dr. K. and Dr. J., the 
two physicians in charge, were the most capable 
men and best learned physicians in the state but 
they were ruining their professional career by 
drinking?” 

“ Yes, that is all straight.” 

“ Do you remember that you and Dr. J. both 
told me that there was not three patients in this 
institution who were not here from the effects of 
liquor? ” 

“ Yes, we did, it is all true.” 

“ Have the physicians not told you to cease 
drinking at once or no medical aid could save 
your life? ” 

“ Yes, but I am not obeying orders very well.” 

“ I notice you are not. In fact people addicted 
to the drink habit seldom give it up until too 
late. Now, Mr. Jergon, how can you consistently 
advocate a thing that if tolerated in any depart- 
ment of the institution will ruin it. Whiskey has 
brought the patients to a life of poverty, shame 
and distress, causes cooks, farmers, laundry men 
and nurses to be discharged, is destroying the 
health of the superintendent and the usefulness 
of the physicians. Now, you tell me that the su- 
pervisors are whiskey men, and will not correct 
a wrong that is causing suffering and death 
simply because the man responsible for the crime 
chances to be one of them, and has voted them 
into office. What is to become of our country if 
these criminals are not checked in this soul-de- 
stroying business? Each brick or inch of con- 
crete in the pavements bought with the liquor 


428 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

license is stained with the price of innocent blood, 
shed as a sacrifice on the altar of sin and shame. ,, 

“ How do you know all this, Miss Hegmey- 
her? You are a sort of a temperance crank, 
aren’t you ? ” 

“ Yes, I am proud to be thus termed. How do 
I know? Ah, I know only too well; as did the 
heart-broken girl who wrote the following poem : 

“ ‘Go, feel what I have felt. 

Go, bear what I have borne ; 

Sink neath the blow a father dealt 
And the cold, proud world's scorn. 

Thus struggle on from year to year 
Thy sole relief the scalding tear ! 

Go, weep, as I have wept. 

O'er a loved father’s fall — 

See every childish promise swept, 

Youth’s sweetness turned to gall. 

Hope’s faded flowers strewn all the way 
That led me up to woman’s day ! 

Go, kneel, as I have knelt, 

Implore, beseech and pray 
Strive the besotted heart to melt, 

The downward course to stay. 

Be cast with bitter curse aside, 

Thy prayers burlesqued, thy tears defied ! 

Go, stand where I have stood, 

And see the strong man bow 

With gnashing teeth, lips bathed in blood 

And cold and livid brow. 

Go, catch his wandering glance and see 
There mirrored his soul’s misery ! 

Go, hear what I have heard, 

The sobs of sad despair, 

As memory’s feeling fount hath stirred. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 429 

And its revealings there 

Have told him what he might have been, 

Had he the drunkard’s fate forseen ! 

Go to thy mother’s side, 

And her crushed spirit cheer. 

Thine own deep anguish hide, 

Wipe from her cheeks the tear, 

Mark her dimmed eye, her furrowed brow, 

The gray that streaks her dark hair now, 

The toil worn frame, the trembling limb. 

And trace the ruin back to him 
Whose plighted faith in early youth 
Promised eternal love and truth ; 

But who, forswoon, hath yielded up 
This promise to the deadly cup 
And led her down from love and light, 

From all that made her pathway bright, 

And chained her there ’mid want and strife. 
That lowly thing, a drunkard’s wife. 

To wear the galling yoke, a slave, 

Until she fills a martyr’s grave. 

See, stamped on childhood’s brow so mild, 

That withering blight, a drunkard’s child ! 

Go hear and see and feel and know, 

All that my soul hath known, 

Then look within the wine cup’s glow, 

See if its brightness can atone — 

Think if its flavor you would try 
If all proclaimed tl ’tis drink and die. ** 

Tell me, I hate the bowl— 

Hate is a feeble word ! 

I loathe, abhor, mjr very soul 
By strong disgust is stirred, 

Whene’er I see, or hear or tell, 

Of the dark beverage of hell ! ' ” 


Dolores remained another month but all of the 
superintendent’s promises were broken. He 


430 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

spent much time in the city electioneering for the 
whiskey element, drank more than usual, was 
cross and loud at the hospital. The matron and 
steward were angry at the nurse and made her 
life almost unendurable. Once, when the matron 
was abusing her she replied, 

“ Mrs. Jergon, say what you like, I shall not 
quarrel with you. My mother raised me to be- 
lieve that ladies do not quarrel.” 

“ After that she did not resent any of their 
slurs or insinuations, but at the end of the month 
she said, 

“ Mr. Jergon, it will be one month to-morrow 
since I resigned ; have you secured another 
nurse ? ” 

No, and I do not intend to. You are all right. 
Your work suits me.” 

“ Thank you, I am glad my work has been sat- 
isfactory; but I gave you a month’s notice. You 
promised to improve things here. Instead, in 
many ways, they are worse. I shall go to-mor- 
row and expect to appear before the supervisors 
before I leave the city.” 

“ Oh, bosh, I thought you had forgotten all 
about that notion ! ” 

“ No, sir, I always try to remember my duty 
to God and humanity.” 

“ Your idea is all right, Miss Hegmeyher, but 
it can never be carried out in a place like this. A 
feller couldn’t dress all these old hoboes up. He 
would soon go busted.” 

“ I did not ask you to dress them up. Nor are 
you required to pay for their clothes. The county 
provides you with money to keep them decent, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 431 

and I only requested that they be kept clean and 
sanitary with plain wholesome food. This should 
be done in all institutions. But we will not dis- 
cuss it farther, Mr. Jergon. I would gladly es- 
cape this duty and go direct home, but my con- 
science dictates that I clear myself of this dread- 
ful responsibility by seeking to relieve these suf- 
fering creatures.” 

“ I told you they would pay no attention to 
what you tell them, didn’t I. I have a stand-in 
and they can’t fire me.” 

“ I cannot help that, and do not wish you dis- 
charged. But they will surely, at least, see that 
things are cleaned up — that is all I desire. But 
even if they ignore my statement completely I 
shall have done my duty, and the sin will not rest 
upon me. My conscience will be clear in the sight 
of God. I should like you to take me to town in 
the morning, if convenient ; if not, I shall walk.” 

“ I will take you if you want to go. But I 
think you will change your mind by that time. 
Remember, I have always been good to you.” 

“ I have nothing to say about my treatment 
from any one. That is of little consequence. I 
do not have to work here. In fact, I work be- 
cause I love to serve humanity, but expect to 
quit the profession soon.” 

The next morning Dolores bowed by her bed- 
side and asked God to direct her steps through 
the day, to carefully guard her lips and give her 
only such words as he would have her utter, to 
help her to speak the truth in behalf of the help- 
less, to cast out all personal grievance that she 
might have against any one, and help her per- 


432 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

form the unpleasant task with an eye single to 
the glory of God and mankind; to help her love 
her enemies and to show to the superintendent, 
matron, steward, and supervisors that, as much 
as they had sinned against God’s creatures, they 
had also sinned against God. She appeared at 
the breakfast-table, calm and composed, for in 
her heart she knew she was doing right. The 
superintendent spoke politely, but his wife and 
son did not respond to her greeting. In fact, they 
had seldom spoken except to abuse or ridicule her 
during the past month. 

She drove with Mr. Jergon to the city, he im- 
portuning her to remain in the hospital and pre- 
fer no charges against him. His only plea was 
“ I have always been good to you.” But he made 
no attempt to deny the charges. When in the 
city, she said, 

“ Mr. Jergon, I am going straight to the super- 
visors’ office and should like you to go with me. 
I prefer making my statement in your presence. 
Will you go?” 

“ No, but remember, Miss Hegmeyher, I have 
always treated you with respect.” 

“ I shall remember. Personally I have nothing 
against any of your family. It gave me pain to 
part with Mrs. Jergon without a word of fare- 
well. I enjoyed the friendship of yourself and 
family very much and admit it has been a hard 
struggle between pleasure and duty. But right 
must win. If I should ever meet any of you 
again, and have occasion or opportunity to serve 
you in the slightest degree I would gladly do so. 
I bear you no ill will. Will you not go and hear 
what I have to say ? ” 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 433 

“ No/’ 

“ Very well. Good-bye, Mr. Jergon ; I am a 
better friend to you than you are to yourself.” 

“ Yes, Miss Hegmeyher, I believe that is true. 
Good-bye.” 

When the supervisors opened their morning 
session that day a modest, refined girl, suitably 
gowned in a neat tailored suit, approached the 
desk and asked the privilege of making a state- 
ment. When granted she said, 

“ Gentleman, it is painfully embarrassing to 
feel thus compelled to appear before an executive 
body of total strangers, but duty demands it. I 
requested Mr. Jergon to accompany me but he 
refused. Thus I was necessitated to come alone, 
asking you in the name of justice and suffering 
humanity to right a wrong now existing in this 
county.” 

Then she briefly submitted her charge, which 
she had carefully itemized and dated. 

“ Now, gentlemen, I leave this in your hands 
to correct. I would have much preferred leaving 
the institution on friendly terms with all and bear 
no one ill will. My only object in reporting ex- 
isting conditions is my sympathy for those poor 
helpless creatures.” 

“ Miss Hegmeyher, would you be willing to 
make oath to these statements ? ” 

“ Certainly. Many things of lesser importance 
have occurred that I have not even mentioned.” 

The district attorney placed her on oath and 
she carefully reiterated her previous statement. 

“ I shall remain in the city a few days. If you 
need me, call at the home of Rev. Hutton.” 


434 THE SHADOW OE A CURSE, 

The district attorney accompanied her to the 
corridor, where he said, 

“ Miss Hegmeyher, I thank you for what you 
have done and realize how embarrassing it must 
have been. I believe each word you spoke to be 
the truth and shall do everything in my power to 
right the wrong. But I fear it will profit us noth- 
ing. I shall go over to the institution and take a 
sworn statement from the patients, but, as you 
say, they will be afraid to tell what they know. 
Then after I have furnished all proof it will be in 
the power of the supervisors to turn them down 
if they choose, and declare Jergon exonerated, 
which I fear they will do. He is one of their 
men, appointed by them as superintendent, and 
they will stand by him. But the best and most 
respectable people will know it is all a whitewash 
and that you have spoken the truth. However, 
I can at least make them clean things up and feed 
them better.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Bartlett, for your interest. 
All I ask or wish is that the patients be relieved. 
I do not care what they say about me. God 
knows I am right.” 

That night the newspapers gave a sensational 
account of the accusation, and the next day the 
district attorney and supervisor drove out to the 
institution, and took the affidavits of many of the 
patients. That night the attorney told Miss Heg- 
meyher that things had been found even worse 
than she had reported. The patients* testimony 
was comparatively the same as hers, and as many 
as twenty-five or thirty of the poor creatures wept 
bitterly when the nurse’s name was mentioned, 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 435 

saying, “ She was the only friend we had in the 
building and now she has gone. We would have 
died long ago had it not been for her ” Mr. 
Bartlett said he hoped the supervisors would take 
proper action, but feared they would not, as 
Jergon and they were alike whiskey men. When 
the supervisors adjourned at the end of the week 
the paper stated that the investigation of the hos- 
pital conditions had been left over until the next 
regular monthly session. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

HAPPINESS IN A CALIFORNIA BUNGALOW. 

Dolores returned to San Francisco, but not to 
follow the profession of nurse. She had at last 
found the man she loved — one on whom she could 
depend. He was not the gushing, sentimental, 
visionary kind. Her experience with men of that 
type had been extremely painful. But she loved 
Bentley Burns, her affianced, with all her heart 
and now fully realized that he was her first and 
only love. While engaged to Horace Norfleet, 
she had believed she loved him very dearly, but 
when the time for the wedding drew near, she 
had intuitively felt it must never be. — Something 
would occur to prevent it. Her grief had been 
very great when she learned of his perfidy, but 
she now thanked God that they were not per- 
mitted to wed. To have lived with a man capa- 
ble of such deception would have been unen- 


436 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

durable. She could not love a man she did not 
respect. Dolores had liked Bennie, when he was 
a little, destitute boy. Even then her childish 
affection went out to him. It was his poverty 
and distress that first impressed on her heart and 
mind the great injustice of the liquor traffic, fill- 
ing her soul with inexpressible horror of the 
dreaded title the “ drunkard’s child When her 
own life had become engulfed by the same 
shadow, she continued to sympathize with Ben- 
nie, comparing their lives and praying for his de- 
liverance from the destroyer. When she saw 
him at the old C. College, in the garb of a janitor, 
with a soot-begrimed face and hands, she still 
liked and admired him, incurring the ill will of 
her schoolmates and companions to prove the sin- 
cerity of her friendship. It did not occur to her 
mind at that time that she loved him — Nothing 
but pity and sympathy existed — but when she 
met this handsome, honorable, conscientious 
Christian attorney, this man of fine intellect, iron 
will, pure character and high ambitions, the great 
attorney whose voice persuades thousands to be- 
lieve and accept his opinion as authority, her 
heart also yielded to his influence, and she real- 
ized that she had loved him all these years. He 
was the one man on earth created by God to be 
her companion until eternity. No doubt or evil 
presentiment filled her mind in this case. Bent- 
ley Burns was the only man she had ever known 
that she felt she could not live without. While 
B. K. Burns declared with great emphasis that 
his one incentive in life had been to place himself 
socially, morally, financially and intellectually in 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 437 


a position where he could conscientiously seek the 
hand of the little girl who had cheered and bright- 
ened his childhood days with flowers, food, cakes, 
candy, books and sympathetic words. Yes, this 
strong man had loved but two women. One was 
a mother, careworn and weary, who had long 
since passed to her reward, and the other Do- 
lores Emerald Hegmeyher, whom he had loved 
since she was a tiny little girl in white pinafores. 
They were quietly married and made a short 
tour of the east, returning to their own beautiful 
rose-covered bungalow in one of the sister cities 
of San Francisco, Cal., where their happiness was 
complete. Five months after their marriage Do- 
lores received a letter from a friend stating that 
the supervisors had deferred their decision in the 
hospital case from time to time for four months 
to give the Jergons ample time to get everything 
in proper condition, then, at a session when the 
prosecuting attorney was ill and unable to be 
present, had issued the following statement : 

“ After some consideration, we, the supervisors 
of this county, have decided that the charges pre- 
ferred by Miss Dolores Hegmeyher, a former 
nurse, against P. D. Jergon, superintendent of 
the city and county hospital, are not sufficient for 
investigation and will here declare Mr. Jergon 
exonerated. Signed by the chairman, I. S. A. 
Tankard, and assistant attorney, N. G. Booser. 
Mr. Jergon also invites the public to visit the in- 
stitution and inspect for themselves the existing 
conditions therein. I. S. A. Tankard.” Her 
friend wrote: 

“ My dear Mrs. Burns, I hope you will not 


438 THE SHADOW OR A CURSE, 

think for one minute that the best people believe 
this statement. In fact, every one knows what 
has been done. It is all a complete whitewash. 
However, it will be some satisfaction to you to 
know that they have really cleaned the place up. 
I went through the institution last week that I 
might report to you. The patients are dressed 
clean and have their faces washed, even poor old 
McGinty who, I think, has not been cleaned up 
for years before. Old man Raymor also looked 
better. So you see, dear, you have accomplished 
much after all. Feeling, against the Jergons runs 
quite strong, and it is predicted that the whole 
whiskey force will lost out in the next election. 
God speed the day when right shall win ! I am 
glad to tell you that District Attorney Bartlett 
did not approve of the stand taken by the super- 
visors, and refused to sign their statement. You 
will see it was signed, during his illness, by the 
assistant attorney, who is a whiskey man and one 
of Jergon’s type. Write me soon. Regards to 
Mr. B. 

Fondly, 

Bonnie.” 

B. K. Burns was very indignant that a body 
of men, representing the people of a county 
would be so unjust and unprincipled. He in- 
sisted on taking the matter to court but his little 
wife replied, 

“ No, my dear husband, you must do nothing 
of the kind. I accomplished all I wished. They 
cannot hurt me. All people of character and 
principle — in fact, all thinking men and women. 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 439 

even though they be ever so low, know there 
was nothing in it for me personally to report 
these people. And they are convinced that I was 
in the right. My object was to open the eyes 
of the public, so that they would compel Super- 
intendent Jergon to make the patients more 
comfortable. This has been done, and I ask 
no more. I do not wish him to lose his position. 
The people are responsible now and will care- 
fully watch him. Rest assured, things will have 
to run smoothly for a while, and I am at last 
free from the responsibility. It was very dis- 
agreeable there — so depressing. Bennie, that 
old man Reymor mentioned in Bonnie’s letter, is 
the once multi-millionaire brewer, Marcus Rey- 
mor, of the east, whose daughter, Estelle, at- 
tended C. College with me.” 

“ What, the girl who corrected you for recog- 
nizing me in janitor clothes?” 

“ Yes, the same. Estelle always took great 
pleasure in making herself disagreeable to every 
one she met. But the poor girl never had any 
training. Money was her god — her only stand- 
ard of character.” 

“ What has brought the old man to the poor 
house? ” 

“ Ah, Bennie, it is the same old story. Money 
made by liquor never lasts long. Her only 
brother, Joe, murdered a comrade in a drunken 
brawl. His father spent every cent he had to save 
him from execution. The boy is now imprisoned 
for life. The poor old mother soon died of a 
broken heart. Estelle, for love of money and 
fine clothes, entered a life of sin and shame, and 


440 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 

Marcus Reymor, the wretched old man is now 
very near the verge of the grave and eternity, 
where he will be called to account for his earthly 
probation and stewardship. Yes, Marcus Rey- 
mor, the ex-multi-millionaire, is ending his 
earthly existence as an indigent, a pauper in a 
county poorhouse. ,, 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 

A WEDDING AT THE OLD WEST VIRGINIA HOME 
UNDER THE LILAC BUSH. 

Three years have elapsed since we last heard 
of Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher Burns and her 
honorable husband. Their lives have been 
blessed with all the joy, happiness and bliss ex- 
isting in the ideal Christian home. That modern 
little rose-clad bungalow, as it rests ’mid gar- 
lands of fragrant, perfumed blossoms in that 
land of sunshine, fruit and flowers, the Eden of 
the golden West, had been a little earthly para- 
dise. But we now find them again ’mid the 
West Virginia hills, the guests of Eric Heg- 
meyher, who resides at the old homestead where 
another wedding was solemnized in the family, 
last night, and Rev. Byron Waud, D. D., great 
uncle of the bride, pronounced Laben Vickers 
and Monica Brockway, man and wife. The 
ceremony was very impressive, the decorations 
picturesque, and the arrangements unique. The 
color scheme was lavendar and white. Under 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 441 


an immense, blossom-laden lilac bush in the ex- 
treme southwestern corner of the old flower- 
garden, Dr. Waud stood behind an altar formed 
of banks of white and purple lilacs, ferns, smilax 
and soft lavender tulle. An orchestra was 
seated in a summer house near by, partly hid- 
den by perfect bowers of purple wisteria. As 
the strains of Mendelssohn’s wedding march 
pealed forth, filling the perfumed breezes with 
sweet melodies, well-groomed men, magnifi- 
cently-gowned women, and fairy-like children 
appeared from cozy nooks and secluded spots, 
hidden from view by ladened rose-bushes, and 
other various kinds of shrubbery and slowly 
wended their way down the diverse paths lead- 
ing to the sacred old lilac tree, now sheltering 
the hoary head of the world’s honored divine. 

Little misses Dolores Emerald Norfleet and 
Blue Bell Noble Mannington first appeared in 
soft, flufify, white frocks, each with a basket of 
fragrant helitropes on one arm, while they bore 
between them a dainty arch of mignonette, helio- 
trope and smilax and took their places before 
the pulpit. Following them came tiny baby Lil- 
lian Constance Burns, less than two years of 
age, looking like a stray sunbeam incased in the 
soft meshes of Valenciennes, bearing in her 
chubby hands a silver tray on which rested the 
wedding ring. She passed through the arch and 
took her place on a vine-covered pedestal at the 
right of the minister. The next to approach the 
altar from one of the side paths was Mrs. Dol- 
ores Emerald Hegmeyher Burns, the matron of 
honor, and aunt of the bride, dressed in a rich 


442 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


pearl-gray satin, artistically draped with chiffon 
caught together with lilac blossoms taken from 
the old beloved bush. Her only jewels were a 
superb necklace of diamonds and amethysts, 
from which hung a beautiful amethyst pendant. 
She was met at the arch by Miss Opie South- 
wick, the maid of honor, who was gowned in an 
elaborate creation of lavendar satin, chiffon and 
white rosebuds, a late Parisian model, showing 
the long lines and graceful curves of her per- 
fect figure, while gorgeous diamonds, partly hid- 
den, sparkled ‘mid the soft folds of the clinging 
garment. They passed under the arch together, 
separating as they approached the altar, taking 
their places at the left and right of the two 
flower girls. From behind a clump of rose- 
bushes a small boy, Master Eric Cassile Heg- 
meyher, Jr., appeared dressed in a cream serge 
cutaway suit with soft linen waist and white 
silk tie, carrying an elaborate cushion of white 
satin embroideried in lavender and silver. Ap- 
proaching the altar, he placed the cushion be- 
neath the arch and taking a step backward to the 
left he knelt clasping his hands reverently as the 
bride approached on the arm of her uncle, the 
Hon. Eric Cassile Hegmeyher, Sr. Miss Monica 
Brockway had long been considered a West Vir- 
ginia belle of the blonde type, but never before 
had this beautiful girl dazzled the eyes of ad- 
miring friends as she did on this, the eve of her 
wedding. Gowned in a rare Parisian robe of 
white satin and point d’esprit with a corsage and 
dog collar of pearls. The drapery was daintily 
caught in place by bunches of orange blossoms 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 443 

and the veil attached to a coronet of orange 
blossoms and pearls rested upon her golden 
locks. She carried a large shower bouquet of 
the same fragrant flowers, tied with tulle. They 
were met at the arch by the groom, a man of fine 
physique, clear-cut features, rich black hair and 
dark brown eyes, dressed in the approved style, 
and his brother, Stannard Vickers, the best man. 
Mr. Hegmeyher placed the arm of his niece in 
that of the groom, taking his place by the side 
of his sister, the matron of honor, while the best 
man was stationed by the maid of honor. The 
bride and groom knelt on the silken cushion, and 
while the orchestra played, softly, “ Will you 
Remember,” Dr. Waud repeated the sacred 
vows that made Monica Brockway and Laben 
Vickers one until eternity. 

After the ceremony a reception was given. 
Great arc lights with lavender shades had been 
placed throughout the garden dispersing there 
delicate purple rays illuminating the entire gar- 
den. Mrs. Eric Hegmeyher in an elegant gown 
of cream crepe de chine and point lace, trimmed 
in rubies, had charge of the registry. 

Mrs. Louise Martinez Norfleet, in an old-rose 
satin, rich old lace and diamonds, was the belle 
of the assembly, as she presided at the fruitade 
bowl. No punch or wine was ever served at a 
reception given by the Hegmeyhers, Wauds, 
Burns, Norfleets, Manningtons or Southwicks. 
They did not choose to serve their friends with 
that which “ biteth like a serpent and stingeth 
like an adder.” 

Mrs. Nell Noble Mannington in a creation of 


444 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


pale blue crepe de chine chiffon and lilies of the 
valley with jewels of turquoise matrix set in 
silver, gracefully presided at the tea urn; and 
Miss Ouida Jewell, gowned in pink crepe de 
chine and pearls, assisted by her sister Miss 
Bernada Jewell, in yellow satin and garnets, re- 
ceived and displayed the numerous presents. 

While dear old Mrs. J. B. Southwick, the life- 
long and most confidential friend of the bride’s 
grandmother, (Mrs. Lillian Constance Waud 
Hegmeyher) was gowned in a heliotrope mousse- 
line, draped with rich black lace, fastened with 
cut jet. A cut jet necklace rested loosely about 
her neck, and a jet butterfly nestled ’mid her 
snowy white locks, as she served to each guest a 
piece of the wedding cake, wrapped in white 
tissue paper, tied with lavender ribbon and a 
bunch of lilacs. 

Horace Norfleet, Kennard Mannington, J. B. 
Southwick, and Horace Norfleet, Jr., were also 
in the receiving line and assisted in the entertain- 
ment of the guests. The evening was one of 
continuous pleasure to all present, and the wed- 
ding was considered the most enjoyable affair 
of the season. The bride and groom were to 
leave on the midnight train for a long European 
tour and, about one-half hour before they started 
to the station, Dolores Emerald Hegmeyher 
Burns took a side path and slipped unobserved 
beneath the old lilac bush, concealing herself 
from view behind the fragrant altar, where she 
meekly knelt, and clasping her jeweled hands 
looked heavenward as she whispered a prayer of 


OR, UNDER THE LILAC BUSH 445 

thanks to her Creator. Tears of joy rested on 
her lashes, as she said aloud: 

“ Father, thy mercy and blessings have been 
greater than we deserve, and I thank Thee for 
all things. Thou hast indeed lifted the shadow 
of the curse from the lives of our family, and 
here in this old beloved, secret closet of prayer, 
my childhood shrine, ‘ The Lilac Bush,’ I bow 
to thank Thee and praise thy holy Name. Keep 
us in the hollow of Thy hand ; clasp us in Thy 
loving embrace; shield us from sin and sorrow, 
and grant that we may be instrumental in de- 
stroying the curse that is shadowing our beau- 
tiful America. And may the day speedily come 
when the whole world shall be free! ” A mas- 
culine voice by her side reverently whispered, 
“ Amen ! ” 

Dolores had not heard her husband as he en- 
tered the bower and silently knelt by her side. 
Clasping her in his arms he whispered, “ Yes, 
my darling, beloved wife, by God’s help we 
shall keep the poisonous serpent out of our home 
and help to extinguish it from the world and 
obliterate its effects.” 

Just then the band struck up the strains of 
“ The West Virginia Hills,” and they arose and 
started down the central walk of the garden 
singing the old beloved tune. As their voices 
rang out like silvery bells, others caught up the 
strain and joined the chorus until hundreds of 
voices were wafted on the fragrant breeze, while 
jewels flashed under the purple lights, as they 
promenaded through the garden, singing the old, 
adored school and state song: 


446 THE SHADOW OF A CURSE, 


“Oh, the West Virginia Hills, 

How majestic and how grand, 

With their summits bathed in glory, 

Like our prince Immanuel's Land ! 

Is it any wonder then, 

That my heart with rapture thrills 
As I stand once more with loved ones 
On those West Virginia Hills ? 

(Chorus) 

Oh, the hills, beautiful hills ! 

How I love those West Virginia Hills ! 

If o'er sea or land I roam, 

Still I'll think of happy home 

And the friends among the West Virginia Hills 

Oh, the West Virginia Hills, 

Where my girlhood hours were passed, 

Where I often wandered lonely 
And the future tried to cast ! 

Many are our visions bright 
Which the future ne'er fulfills 
But how sunny were my day dreams 
On those West Virginia Hills ! 

Oh ! the West Virginia Hills, 

How unchanged they seem to stand 
With their summits pointing skyward, 

To the great Almighty’s land, — 

Many changes I can see 
Which my heart with sadness fills 
But no changes can be noticed 
In these West Virginia Hills. 

Oh, the West Virginia Hills, 

I must bid you now adieu ! 

In my home beyond the mountains, 

I shall ever dream of you ; 

In the evening time of life, 

If my father only wills, 

I shall still behold the vision 
Of those West Virginia Hills !" 


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